


Hunter & Holmes

by azriona



Series: Hearts [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Mummy Holmes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, F/M, How They Met, Omega Father Holmes, Omega Sherrinford Holmes, Omega Verse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:18:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azriona/pseuds/azriona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Sherlock’s parents met and fell in love is a fairy tale with an imperfect ending.  A prequel of sorts to the Heart ‘Verse – though as it’s a prequel, it very much stands alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> First: If you’ve read the Heart ‘Verse, you know how this story is going to end. 
> 
> Second: **Trigger warning for onscreen death.**
> 
> There was a Tumblr meme about a year ago where followers could ask me for background to various characters. Corpsereviver2 asked for Mummy Holmes from the Heart ‘Verse. I had a brief idea about Aurora Holmes’s background – but [it sort of blossomed while I wrote it](http://azriona.tumblr.com/post/57876357418/mummy-holmes-hearts-verse-or-power-play-you-choose), and then I couldn’t get it out of my head. This is her fault. (Be warned – the link is majorly spoilery for how this story ends.)
> 
> Thanks to kizzia and earlgreytea68 for the Brit-pick and beta, and to CR2 for the unintentional inspiration. And yes – it’s het Omegaverse. Because I’m fun that way. 
> 
> Please note I’m posting both the prologue and Chapter One today, and as always, will post a chapter every Wednesday until we’re done. I promise to try to remember it’s Wednesday a bit earlier in the day next week!
> 
> (A special note regarding the characters: in this story, Sherrinford is Sherlock and Mycroft's dad. I used both names in the Character line because I know some people search with those!)

Aurora Holmes was sweeping the floor in the kitchen, humming along to Elvis Presley on the radio (“ _Love me tender, love me true—"_ ) when she heard the brief, shocked cry from the hall.  It ended as soon as it began; it wouldn’t do for such an enthusiastic exclamation to be heard from the mistress of the house, of course.  About as awful as finding the young lady of the house sweeping up the detritus of a failed chemistry experiment, and her curiosity about whatever news her mother was hearing was dampened by Aurora’s certainty that if Violet Holmes found her daughter doing such menial work – let alone such dangerous experiments – there would be punishment in store.

 

“Oh, Bertha, that’s _wonderful_ , that’s _marvelous_!” Violet was saying, her voice reaching a pitch Aurora hadn’t heard in ages.  “Congratulations, really.  I’m ever so pleased.”

 

Silence; Bertha was clearly giving out more information.  Aurora kept half an ear open as she tipped the broken glass and wet towels into the rubbish bin.  No point in trying to salvage any of it; Aurora knew the stains wouldn’t come out, and she scanned the kitchen for something to cover the mess with – ah, there.  The coffee grinds left over from breakfast.  Perfect.

 

“And Winston?  Is he strutting about like a peacock?”

 

Winston and Bertha – that would be the Reynolds, then.  If Winston was strutting about, it had to be something terribly unexpected, because Winston Reynolds was never pleased by anything.  He’d been a sour man as long as Aurora had known him.  Sour and cross and continually displeased with his children, especially since Jasper had come out as an omega three years before, and Thomas as a beta before that, and he’d never held out much hope for Elizabeth.  “Wet mouse of a child,” he called her when Aurora could hear, and that was in company. 

 

Aurora had always felt keenly protective of Elizabeth, and had privately decided that it didn’t matter if Elizabeth was an omega or a beta.  She herself was an alpha, she supposed feeling protective of Elizabeth just came naturally.  And it was perfectly fine by her whatever Elizabeth ended up being; she’d claim Elizabeth as her own and kick Winston Reynolds to the curb.  Useless overgrown git, giving alphas the world over a bad name.

 

“Of course he is,” Violet Holmes said.  “What a lovely thing for him.  For both of you.  Yes, of course, I’ll tell Aurora, straight away.”

 

Oh dear.  Aurora scanned the kitchen one last time, and spied the tiny splatter of blue against the wainscoting, just in time. 

 

“Cheerio, lovely, and we must have lunch.  So much to discuss.”

 

Aurora cleared up the liquid and hid the damp cloth behind her dress just as Violet Holmes walked into the room.  It was icy against her skin, and yet Aurora could almost smell the fabric on the back of her dress begin to smolder from the close contact. 

 

“Hello, Mother,” said Aurora brightly.  “Was that Mrs Reynolds on the phone?”

 

“Don’t eavesdrop, darling.  Is there something burning in here?”

 

“No,” said Aurora, and shifted the cloth away from her skirt.

 

“Hmm.  Is Mrs Patterson here, I should have a word if she’s burning the porridge again.”

 

“Nothing burning, Mum,” said Aurora.

 

“Aurora, _please_ , how many times do I have to ask you—?"

 

“Sorry, Mother.  Is everything all right with the Reynolds?”

 

“Oh!  Yes.  Lovely, as a matter of fact – Elizabeth, you know.  Last night, at the cinema.  There was a bit of a commotion, I don’t know what—"

 

“A film premiere, Mother, I told you yesterday.  _Tea and Sympathy_ with Deborah Kerr.  I wanted to go, but you said—"

 

“Oh, _Aurora_ ,” chided Violet.  “Really, darling, is that what it was?  I’m surprised Bertha even allowed Elizabeth to go.  It could have turned out very badly, you never know who’s going to show up to such things.  And of course – but at least it ended well enough—"

 

Aurora’s heart clenched in her chest.  There could only be one horrible thing that could happen in a darkened cinema – where, as her mother put it, anyone could attend.  And Elizabeth, who was still innocent and sweet and _unpresented_ …

 

Aurora squeezed the damp cloth in her hand, just to feel the icy liquid burn her skin.

 

“Mother,” said Aurora, trying to keep her voice even, “what about Elizabeth?  Did something happen?”

 

“Oh, yes, of course.  Some silly little chit thought she had a fever, not that she was going into heat.  It triggered Elizabeth into her first frenzy – what a lucky thing she was with her brother.  The beta boy, of course, he had enough strength to pull her away before anything untoward could occur.  Imagine mating with someone of that class, low enough to not know the difference between a fever and a heat….”

 

The chill in Aurora’s fingers crept up her skin, up her arms, around her shoulders, down into her heart.

 

  1.   An alpha, after all.



 

“Winston’s proud as anything, of course, he’d given up any sort of hope of carrying on his legacy….”

 

There went the plans, then.  The little cottage at the end of the lane.  A bedroom decked out in white lace and lavender.  The shed out back converted into a laboratory for her, and a garden where Elizabeth could plant flowers and vegetables, and a little bedroom upstairs for whoever might come along.

 

“Quite a relief for you, Aurora – I’m sure you were worried about her.”

 

Aurora was lost in the daydream.  She was allowed one last wallow, wasn’t she?  “Hmm?”

 

“Well, it isn’t as if you could have gone on being friends if she’d been a beta.  Or an omega, goodness!  Imagine the stress it would have put on the pair of you.  Much better this way.”

 

Aurora could barely hear her mother.  The icy cold from the towel was biting into her skin, digging into her nerves.  She could very nearly feel it eat away at the calcium in her bones.

 

“…perhaps this afternoon, when she’s calmed down a little, won’t that be nice, dear?  Aurora?  Goodness sake, are you even listening?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I’m saying you should go and visit, Aurora!  Elizabeth is sure to be a bit nervous – after all, she’s a bit on the older side for presenting as an alpha, and she’s got such a treasure in a friend who’s been through it already.  I’m sure she would love to benefit from your experience.”

 

“Yes, of course,” said Aurora.

 

Violet peered at her daughter.  “Darling, are you feeling well?  You look rather pale.  Did you eat breakfast?”

 

“Yes, of course, Mother.   I’ve…there’s some schoolwork….”

 

“Always with the schoolwork.  Well, off you pop then.  Remember about this afternoon.”

 

Aurora didn’t answer; she flew from the kitchen.  It took half an hour of holding her hand under the faucet in the lavatory before she was able to pull the towel away from her hand, revealing pink and aching skin.

 

*

 

Elizabeth didn’t say a word at tea, not until her mother had left the room.  Her father had taken the day from work, was loud and boisterous in a way that Aurora didn’t recognize, and Elizabeth, in the same room as he was, seemed smaller than she ever had before.  The girls sat near each other on the settee, holding their teacups (the fancy sort, “for the occasion,” said Mrs Reynolds) and not looking at each other, and Aurora studied her yellow silk skirt, waiting for the adults to leave the room.

 

And then they did, tittering about how the girls would want to talk, and still Elizabeth said nothing, and Aurora found herself at a loss for words.

 

“Elizabeth,” she said, because it was the only thing she could manage to say.

 

“I’m sorry, Rory,” whispered Elizabeth, and there was a tremor in her voice, as if she were about to cry.  “I…I know it’s not what you wanted.”

 

It was all she needed – to hear the sorrow in Elizabeth’s voice, see the tears in her eyes.  Aurora straightened her back and set her teacup down on the table.

 

“Stuff and nonsense,” she exclaimed.  “Don’t cry, alphas don’t cry, and today’s a happy day, isn’t it?  You’re an _alpha_ , and that’s lovely.  You’ll get to attend school with me now, instead of the beastly day school for omegas.  Have you _seen_ their uniforms?  Green and black, absolutely horrid for your complexion, you’ll look much better in blue.  Has your mother rung the office yet?  I’m sure you can start after the holidays.”

 

Elizabeth blinked and rubbed at her eyes.  “You…you aren’t upset?”

 

“Ridiculous to be upset about some little bit of biology you can’t help,” said Aurora loftily.  “I’m above all that.  Here, what are you studying in maths?  It wouldn’t do to have you very far behind.”

 

Elizabeth dropped her tea cup on the table with a clatter, and threw her arms around Aurora.  “Oh, Rory – I was so afraid you’d hate me.”

 

Startled, Aurora kept her arms up for a moment – and then, impulsively, let them settle around the younger girl.  For a moment, she closed her eyes, and she could pretend that Elizabeth’s relief wasn’t borne from sorrow, but from the end of waiting.  That she’d had a very different presentation, that everything was slipping into place very neatly.  That Elizabeth was _hers_.

 

The only thing to ignore, really, was the faint scent of alpha rising from Elizabeth’s hair, and after a moment, Aurora couldn’t ignore it any longer.  She patted Elizabeth’s back and gave her one last squeeze before holding her away.

 

“Now,” said Aurora briskly, fondly, and with the bravest smile she could dredge up, “let’s discuss geometry.”

 


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from _Love Story_ \- the movie, definitely, I can't remember if the quote is in the book!

See, I think you're scared. You put up a big glass wall to keep from getting hurt. But it also keeps you from getting touched. It's a risk, isn't it, Jenny? At least I had the guts to admit what I felt. Someday you're gonna have to come up with the courage to admit you care.

\--Oliver, _Love Story_ (movie)

 

 

_Ten years later_

 

Sherrinford Hunter was a complete mess.  His short-sleeve shirt might have been neatly pressed that morning, but now it was showing wrinkles and the faintest hint of water damage from excessive hand-washing.  It was coming untucked at his waist, and his tie was loosened, just slightly, as if he’d been playing with it nearly constantly since tying the knot that morning. 

 

This was very likely because he had.  And there was no time to fix himself, because he was hurrying along the corridor behind the director of the Abotech Pharmaceuticals Corporation Ltd., Mr Stanislavsky, who seemed very intent on walking as fast as it was humanly possible to go.  Sherrinford wasn’t a short man, but his feet might well have been switched that morning, right to left and left to right, for all that he was able to walk properly.  Not to mention carry the piles of books and papers and binders and folders and pens and passcards and all the detritus that came with a new job. 

 

His dream job, really, and straight out of uni.

 

This ought to have been the best moment of Sherrinford’s life.  He ought to have been walking proudly, confidently, with a ready smile and a firm handshake.  Imagine him – Sherrinford Hunter, graduating first in his class in bio-chemistry at Cambridge, first omega in the history of the school to have pulled off such a feat.  _Him_ – sometimes Sherrinford had to pinch himself to believe that he was really there, that he wasn’t just reading about some _other_ person, with his imagination running away from him.

 

Instead, his glasses were crooked and he was absolutely convinced that the auburn curls on his head were resisting the hair gel and sticking straight up in the back.  He probably looked like he was fifteen years old.  He _felt_ like he was fifteen years old.  It was mortifying.

 

“Ah, just here, then,” said Mr Stanislavsky, as if he didn’t actually notice that Sherrinford was struggling to maintain his calm and collected appearance.  He stopped in front of a laboratory door and turned with a grand smile to Sherrinford.  “Here’s where you’ll be spending the next few years, Mr Hunter.”

 

Sherrinford stared at the door: heavy, wooden, with a window that was too small to be of much use, and a nameplate firmly affixed just under it.

 

“Ah,” he said, stammering just a little, “Ah.  It’s taken.  Sir.”

 

Mr Stanislavsky glanced at the door.  “Your mentor, of course – don’t take offense, please.  It’s nothing to do with your being an omega, all our new researchers start off with a mentor.  Show you where the cafeteria is and how to access the restricted chemicals, that sort of thing.  You’ll assist for the first year or so, until you get your feet under you.”

 

“Right,” said Sherrinford, and was about to read the name again when Mr Stanislavsky opened the door, blocking it from view. 

 

“We couldn’t be more pleased that you’re here,” continued the director.  “Isn’t that right, Holmes?  Every pharmaceutical company in the country and half those on the continent fighting for his signature on the dotted line, and here he is.”

 

The resident researcher didn’t say anything.  She was bent over a microscope, her dark hair caught in a rubber band.  Mr Stanislavsky didn’t seem perturbed by her inattention.  Sherrinford stood in the doorway, trying to keep an errant paper from slipping down to the floor, unsure if he ought to enter or not.

 

“Now, this will be _your_ table,” said Mr Stanislavsky, patting the table already covered in test tubes and vials and glass cylinders, all set up in an elaborate maze of tubes and cording.  “Ah…Holmes.  You did get the memo, didn’t you?”

 

“I’m busy,” said Holmes, irritable.  She didn’t look up from the microscope.

 

“New mentee, Holmes.  _Your_ mentoree.  You were to clear off the table for him.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

It was of no use; his arms were going to fall off, the papers and books clatter on the ground, and he’d look as stupid as he felt just then.  Sherrinford took three steps into the laboratory and hefted the pile up, just enough to rest it on the edge of the table that was meant to be his.  “I’ll just—"

 

“Don’t touch them!” snapped Holmes suddenly, and her head whipped up from the microscope.  “It’s a very sensitive…. _an omega_?!?  Are you _mad_?”

 

“You really ought to read the memos, Holmes,” said Mr Stanislavsky mildly.  “He’s bonded.  Perfectly safe.”

 

Holmes shoved back from the table and crossed her arms.  “I can’t have him in my laboratory.  I _won’t_.  You know the importance of this work, Mikhail, I can’t risk having any measurement compromised by the fluctuating temperatures and temperaments of an oncoming estrus or some flighty concern about the risk to an unborn fetus. Transfer him to someone else.”

 

“No,” said Mr Stanislavsky.

 

“Wilson needs an assistant.”

 

“Wilson has two of them already.”

 

“Carew is absolutely mad for a second set of hands.”

 

“Carew is still under censure for how he treated his last assistant.”

 

“And you think I won’t be worse?”

 

“Holmes,” said Mr Stanislavsky, “What is the worst you can do to the boy?  He’s bonded and you’ve said yourself that you’re incapable of having a frenzy.  Besides, he’s the one who wrote the thesis about primary nuclei bonding with the elementary cissures in single-celled organisms.”

 

Holmes turned to stare at Sherrinford, who gulped and tried to stand up straighter.

 

“Did he now?”

 

“In fact, that’s why I worked so hard to get him – I knew you admired that paper and that you’d want to work with him.”

 

“Didn’t think an _omega_ wrote it.”

 

“Well, he did.  And now he’s working with you.  So I’ll remind you to be gracious and perhaps clear off the table so that he can help with your current project.  You might find he has something to contribute.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Mr Stanislavsky turned to Sherrinford.  “Well, there you are then.  I’ll leave you to it.  Welcome to Abotech, Mr Hunter, we’re all very glad to have you here.”

 

“Yes, thank you,” said Sherrinford, glancing at Holmes one more time.  He wasn’t entirely sure that Mr Stanislavsky was being honest – Holmes, for one, didn’t seem the least bit pleased that he was in her laboratory, even if she _had_ liked his thesis.   Sherrinford fumbled to balance the books and papers on the edge of the table so that he could shake Mr Stanislavsky’s hand.  Miraculously, nothing fell.

 

At least, nothing until the director had left, at which point everything collapsed with a crash onto the floor at his feet.  Holmes sighed heavily.

 

“Just…pick those up.  And don’t touch anything on my table.”

 

“Right,” said Sherrinford, because it wasn’t worth the argument. “Ah…where shall I put them?”

 

“Anywhere.  I don’t care.  There’s an empty drawer somewhere around, I’m sure.  On the other side of the building.”

 

For a moment, Sherrinford wasn’t sure whether to stay or go.  He wasn’t about to stay where he wasn’t wanted – but the idea of chasing down Mr Stanislavsky and asking for a reassignment on his first day – after two minutes alone with his advisor – smarted. 

 

He ended by balancing the tall stack of books and papers on the edge of the counter nearest the door.  When he was sure it wouldn’t topple over again, he stepped away, and then looked closer at the experiment that cluttered up the table.  He could feel Holmes’s eyes on his back as he leaned over for a closer look.

 

“A reversal of the sub-particulates for the chemical bromine,” he said after a minute.  When Holmes didn’t respond right away, he continued.  “How are you accounting for the positive neutron charges – oh.  _Oh_ , I see.  The magnet relay.”

 

“Obviously,” said Holmes, as if she were both bored and irritated and trying very hard to pretend that she wasn’t at all interested in hearing more.

 

“Not really, no.”

 

“You have eyes.  And a degree from Oxford.  Put them together,” said Holmes.  “One wonders how you managed it.”

 

“Eyes?”

 

“A degree.”

 

“Oxford’s been open to omegas since 1962,” said Sherrinford, standing up straight.  His heart pounded – here it came, then.  _You’re so clever for an omega, what will you do when you find an alpha and settle down, what about the children?_

 

“And I suppose you’re going to tell me you were the one to open it, weren’t you?”

 

“Yes, actually.  Well, me and a few others.  But yes.”

 

“Very permissive of your alpha; I haven’t met many who approve of advanced education for omegas who ought to be home raising the children.”

 

“No children,” said Sherrinford, heart pounding.

 

Holmes sniffed.  “What would you have done if it hadn’t opened?”

 

Sherrinford clenched his fists.  “What do you mean?” he asked, knowing the answer already.  _Have children, raise them in the country, be a proper omega._   That was what was expected, of course.

 

“It’s not as though there are any omega colleges with as good a scientific course of study as Oxford.  Nursing school, perhaps.  Doubt you would have learned what you’d needed to know in order to write the paper you wrote.”

 

Sherrinford bristled.  “Do you doubt I wrote it?”

 

“No.”

 

“I wrote every word.  Months of research, that was.  I was in the labs every night for _weeks_ , I barely slept—"

 

“Mr Hunter!” Holmes looked up from her microscope at long last.  Her eyes were wide and bright and a little bit angry, though Sherrinford didn’t know why _she’d_ have been upset.  _He_ was the one who’d been insulted.  “I’m not casting doubt on your honesty or impunity.  I’m stating that in order to excel at Oxford as you did, it would have required years of study and preparation at an early age.  Considering that you would have had no way of knowing that Oxford would open to your gender classification, I have to think that your early education was either taken up with what could very well have been futile hopes, or that there was another plan laid in place.”

 

Sherrinford let out a breath.  “Tutors.”

 

“ _Tutors_.”

 

“Supplemental to those nursing programs.”

 

“Who would tutor an omega student at the collegiate level?” scoffed Holmes.

 

“The same professors who ended up teaching him,” replied Sherrinford, and this seemed to catch Holmes off guard.  She studied him a little closer, before giving off a sniff.

 

“Instrumental in your being admitted.”

 

“Alongside a few others,” Sherrinford reminded her, but she waved them off as unimportant.

 

“There would have been a catalyst.  It would seem, if your claims are correct – and I’m not disputing them, so don’t bother getting upset about it – that _you_ were the catalyst in question.  Just as well.  I very much doubt that anyone would have paid attention to your paper had you not the credentials to back it up.  And to ignore such research would have been a very great fallacy indeed.”

 

The laboratory fell silent, except for the silent clicks of the slides as Holmes replaced them in her microscope.  Sherrinford watched her for a moment, breathing as normally as he could manage, despite his rapidly pounding heart, and the way his fingers twitched.

 

_That was a compliment.  I think_.

 

“I’m your assistant,” he finally blurted out. 

 

“So they tell me.”

 

“So….what do you want me to do?”

 

Holmes glanced at him over the microscope.  “Do?”

 

“To…assist.  Do you want me to measure something?  Prepare a slide?  Type up some notes?”

 

“Run for coffee?” asked Holmes, a bit snidely, and Sherrinford stiffened his back.  “A joke, Mr Hunter.  I would suggest completing whatever inane paperwork you need to finish for Stanislavsky, and then perhaps…cleaning.”

 

“Cleaning?” echoed Sherrinford.

 

“Cleaning,” said Holmes, quite decisively, and peered through her microscope again, as if the conversation was over.

 

“Isn’t there a janitorial staff—?”

 

“Who are not allowed in my laboratory, because the last time they were here – _every_ time, as a matter of fact – they destroyed thousands of pounds worth of experiments that set me back months.  Cleaning, Mr Hunter.  Feel free to do whatever it is you need to do, but disturb my experiments or my notes and you’ll find yourself another job, Oxford degree or no.”

 

And with that, Holmes’s attention turned back to the microscope; it was as good as being dismissed.  Sherrinford waited, to see if she’d say anything else, but after a few minutes, he was itching to move around the laboratory, to poke into the corners, to look more closely at the various experiments which he now saw were scattered around the room. 

 

Cleaning would be a good way of doing that.  Familiarization.  Sherrinford set to work, and if Holmes watched him as he wiped and dusted and scrubbed, then he tried not to be bothered about it. 

 

*

 

It was months before they had another conversation as long as they had on their first day of meeting.  When Sherrinford arrived at nine o’clock on the dot the next morning, Aurora was already there, back to the door, peering through a microscope or working with the Bunsen burner, a dozen petri dishes waiting in a row to be prepped.

 

After a week, Sherrinford started arriving at quarter to nine.  Aurora was there, empty teacup waiting to be washed.

 

After a month, Sherrinford was arriving at five minutes past eight.  Aurora was always there. 

 

She never took lunch, she never had afternoon tea.  She was there when he went home for the day, showing no signs of leaving anytime soon.

 

“She’s a workaholic,” said Tim from Lab 2.

 

“She’s a cold fish,” said Roger from Lab 4.

 

“She thinks she’s too good for us,” said Alyssa from Lab 7.  “Never comes out for drinks on Friday nights, does she?  All stuck up in her ivory laboratory.  Trying to save humanity.”

 

“Is that it?” scoffed Roger.  “I thought she was trying to self-propagate without an omega.”

 

Sniggers all around the table.  Sherrinford joined in out of habit.  He’d been working at Abotech for three months by then, and knew three-quarters of the staff by name.  And every one of them, upon hearing his assignment, would react with widened eyes and a quick, “Oh, oh.  That’s…nice.  How are you holding up?”  Not _do you like it here_ or _quite the change from uni we’re sure_ , but how he was _holding up_.

 

Aurora Holmes apparently came with a reputation.

 

Tim leaned in, and the rest of the group copied him.  Tim always had the good gossip.  “I heard tell she’s never had a frenzy.”

 

“How do they know if she’s an alpha, if she’s never had a frenzy?” scoffed Roger. 

 

“X-rays, you eejit, they light you up like Christmas and can see all the hidden bits and pieces.”

 

“An alpha her age, never had a frenzy?” asked Alyssa, eyes wide.  “She’s what, gone thirty?  _Cor_.”

 

_Twenty-six_ , thought Sherrinford, but said nothing.

 

“Well, makes sense, doesn’t it?” said Roger.  “Frenzies and heats, they’re all too messy for the likes of her.”

 

Sherrinford felt the hair on the back of his neck rise at that, but he snorted along with the others, and the gossip turned to other supervisors, and which one was having an affair with the janitorial staff – not just one, but _all_ the janitorial staff, which defied logic but was too good a tale to ignore – and when Sherrinford went back to the lab, there was Aurora Holmes, sitting exactly where he’d left her, forty-five minutes earlier.

 

“Do you sleep here?” asked Sherrinford. 

 

Aurora whipped around so quickly, her plait flew around her head like a rope.  “Sorry?”

 

“Never mind, of course you don’t,” Sherrinford said thoughtfully.  “Only, you never go home.”

 

“I go home!”

 

“For what, an hour?  You know there’s a world outside this laboratory, don’t you?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“It’s only you never seem to realize it exists.”

 

“Because it doesn’t matter,” snapped Aurora, and she turned back to her work.  “Lunch with your compatriots, I see.”

 

“My _friends_ , yes.”

 

“That’s what I said.”

 

“Not so much, no.”

 

“You shouldn’t spend so much time with them.  You always come back so bullish.”

 

Sherrinford tried not to choke.  “What?  You don’t have any say over my friends.  You’re not my alpha.”

 

Aurora stiffened.  “Tim Fallows and Alyssa Bradbury both applied and were rejected as my assistants, and Roger Morefield was too afraid to even request me as a supervisor.  They aren’t your friends.  I suspect they are using you in order to either get to me, or to sabotage your own reputation in this company.”

 

“Reputation?  I don’t _have_ a reputation.  Everyone in this company knows you won’t let me so much as turn on your burners.”

 

Aurora looked up from her microscope, eyes wide, and Sherrinford realized what he’d said.

 

“I mean…that is…your _Bunsen_ burners.  Not turn you on.  I mean...me turn you on.  Ah…”  Sherrinford could tell his face was flaming red, and all Aurora did was _look_ at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised up into the little wisps of hair that weren’t exactly fringe, more hair that just didn’t grow long enough to be pulled back into her ponytail.

 

She didn’t look terribly upset, either, just…waiting to see what he would do.

 

Sherrinford threw up his hands.  “Never mind.  You probably don’t even understand what I said.  I’ll just go get the broom and sweep up.”

 

He was nearly at the door when she spoke.  “Hunter.”

 

Sherrinford went still.

 

“Write these down, please.”

 

She had already spouted off half a dozen sets of numbers before Sherrinford clued in to the fact that Aurora Holmes was _giving him numbers to write down_.  He lunged for a pencil and the first piece of paper he could find, and started scribbling, inching closer to her on the table every time she took a breath.

 

“Did you catch that?” she asked a few moments later.

 

Sherrinford handed her the paper, and she glanced at it briefly. 

 

“Next time enter them into the chart,” she advised, and went straight into the next set of equations, firing numbers out so quickly that Sherrinford didn’t have a chance to ask where the charts _were_.

 

*

 

And somehow, it got better.  He went from being the glorified cleaning lady to the glorified secretary, to the glorified dish-washer (which Aurora seemed to think was a step _up_ ), and then he was setting up the microscope and the petri dishes. 

 

It would have been horrible, the aching way he was being made to start at square one, except that all along the way, he was _learning_.  By cleaning the lab from top to bottom every day for two weeks, he learned where every item was kept, to the point that he knew the lab better than Aurora herself.  By taking notes, he became adept at hearing what Aurora meant and didn’t say, and what she said but didn’t mean. 

 

He’d been working for Aurora for six months and three days when he walked into the lab on a Monday morning to find Aurora glaring at him impatiently.

 

“You’re late.”

 

Sherrinford looked at the clock: quarter to eight.

 

“You were meant to take out the samples twenty minutes ago.  I had to do it for you.”

 

Sherrinford stared blankly at her.  “You never let me touch the samples.”

 

“I told you yesterday that I wanted you to record your observations—”

 

Sherrinford blinked.  “Yesterday was _Sunday_.”

 

“Your point?” snapped Aurora.

 

“We don’t _work_ on Sunday.”  Sherrinford paused.  “Wait.  You were here yesterday?”

 

Aurora stiffened.  “If this is going to be another interrogation about my personal life…”

 

“No.  I mean – you were here and you were _talking_ to me?  I wasn’t even here.”

 

Aurora’s mouth opened, but for the first time since Sherrinford had met her, nothing actually came out.  Abruptly, she turned her back to him and busied herself with opening drawers roughly, as the contents rattled and banged together.

 

“Fine.  It’s all fine.  Just…they’re on the far table, just record your observations and put them away again.”

 

Sherrinford watched her for another moment.  “The heat-safe goggles are in the right-hand drawer, third down, on the far end of the counter.”

 

Aurora spun around to stare at him.  “How did you—?”

 

Sherrinford shrugged.  “You’re setting up the Bunsen burner, and you don’t already have the goggles out.”

 

Aurora stared at him for another moment, before whipping around to find the goggles.  Sherrinford kept her in the corner of his eyes while he set down his briefcase and put on his lab coat.

 

By the time he was ready to examine the specimens, he could already hear the faint hiss of the flame. 

 

Somehow, he managed not to smile.

 

*

 

Aurora looked shocked the first time Sherrinford put in for his week.

 

“You only just started.”

 

“I know, but…”

 

“We’re running tests on the chemical compounds next week, I need you here—”

 

“I’d be here if I could, but…”

 

“This is very important work, Hunter.  It’s not like school, you can’t just skive off when you feel like you need a bit of a holiday—”

 

“It’s my estrus!” shouted Sherrinford, a bit fed up, and Aurora, much to his surprise, blushed bright red and fumbled the vials of acid she was holding.  Some spilled on the tabletop with a hiss, and Sherrinford ran for the spare cloths.

 

Aurora didn’t say another word.  For almost the rest of the day. 

 

“Will you—” she began, and then caught herself.  “Have a good…”  The words caught in her throat; her expression twisted as if she tasted something terrible.

 

Sherrinford wrapped his fingers around his briefcase and stared at her, waiting, curious what she’d say next.

 

“I’ll see you in a week,” Aurora finally managed to say, as briskly and formally as the first day they’d met, and Sherrinford nodded slowly at her.

 

“Right.  Don’t destroy the lab while I’m gone, I only just got it clean.”

 

“Hmph,” snorted Aurora, and turned her back on him. 

 

Sherrinford smiled, and went.  When he returned a week later, a bit peaky and tired, Aurora glanced at him with a curious look in her eyes, and pointedly did not say anything but, “The sink is overflowing with petri dishes, do something about that, would you.”

 

Which considering the broad winks and smiles and the stray comment in the cafeteria that morning, Sherrinford rather appreciated.

 

*

 

There was a departmental meeting every other week, Monday afternoons after lunch.  At first, Sherrinford imagined it would involve the rapturous sharing of ideas, generous transfer of information and time, scientists working together in pursuit of knowledge and greater discoveries. 

 

Then he attended a meeting, and had to re-evaluate his opinion.  Once he’d woken from the stupor the meeting caused, that was.

 

“This is the real reason you gave in to having me as an assistant,” remarked Sherrinford as he dug in a drawer for a spare pencil.  “You just didn’t want to attend the biweekly nap session anymore.”

 

“You assume I ever attended in the first place,” said Aurora without looking up from her microscope.  She might have been glued to it, thought Sherrinford.  If nothing else, she likely saw the entire world in miniature.

 

Sherrinford grinned, unable to banish the thought of Aurora peering down at all of them, eyes narrowed as she took stock of them as ants.  “Well, I’m off to take my pre-scheduled nap.  I’ll rotate the cell structures when I get back.”

 

“Sweet dreams.”

 

Sherrinford paused, not entirely sure he’d heard correctly.  Aurora was still looking through the microscope, yet he _thought_ there was the barest blush on her cheeks…but…nah.

 

The meeting was every bit as boring as Sherrinford had suspected.  He’d long since started a running tally of how many times Stanislavsky used the phrase “nuclei” incorrectly (it was surprisingly high), and how many times he bent over backwards to avoid saying the phrase “omega scientist” in reference to Sherrinford (it was unsurprisingly higher).  Other than a way to pass the time, the tally had the advantage of making it seem that Sherrinford was paying closer attention than he really was: everyone else scribbled madly into their notebooks and nodded sagely at various moments.  Usually, Sherrinford just wanted to bang his head against the table. 

 

By the time they reached the end of the meeting – something Sherrinford privately called “Show-n-Tell” – he was bored stiff, simultaneously running through the things he had yet to do that morning before lunch, and trying to decide what to eat for dinner that night, while also composing a shopping list before he could go home, since there wasn’t much food in the flat.  Chicken, maybe, and some spring peas, and milk.  Always milk…

 

Sherrinford presented the list of experiments and projects and studies that Aurora was conducting as concisely as he could.  It still took nearly ten minutes.  He listened with half an ear to the others.  The first few meetings, he’d been impressed at how much detail the other teams brought to the table – until he realized that the amount of detail was directly related to the fact that the teams were working on significantly fewer projects, and were trying to match the length of Sherrinford’s presentation, since they had no hope of matching the quantity.

 

“Mr Hunter!”

 

Sherrinford’s head snapped up.  “I…yes?”

 

Stanislavsky sighed.  “I asked if any of your projects were near completion?”

 

“Ah…yes, sorry.  One or two, in a few months.  The cell structure anomalies are in a holding pattern, we can’t do anything with them during the freezing process which will take several weeks, but after that it should move rapidly along and we’ll be able to present our final report in mid-August.  The calves’ embryos – maybe another four weeks?  It depends largely on whether or not—”

 

The others were already glancing at each other with odd looks in their eyes, sitting up a little straighter in their chairs, when Stanislavsky interrupted him.  “No matter.  Sounds as if you have a rather tight schedule for a bit.  All very important projects; we couldn’t afford to let any of it slide, so we won’t consider it.  You may go.”

 

“Ah…all right,” said Sherrinford, a bit befuddled, and he gathered his papers together with another glance at the others, who were now looking quite eager at Stanislavsky.  One in particular – Alyssa’s mentor, Sherrinford could never recall his name – was rubbing his hands together in glee.  “Thank you.”

 

Stanislavsky didn’t answer; he just waved Sherrinford off.

 

Sherrinford was still a bit confused when he entered the lab.  Aurora, of course, was still at her microscope, dictating numbers.

 

“You _do_ remember I wasn’t actually here,” said Sherrinford when she took a breath, already with a pencil and paper in hand. 

 

“Of course I do!” snapped Aurora.  “I was…reciting them so I could remember until you got back to write them down.”

 

“Heaven forbid you write them yourself.”

 

“Naps make you so testy,” complained Aurora.  “Really, you should stop attending those meetings.  You’re my assistant, after all – no one would think anything of it.  They never thought anything of me not attending.”

 

“And being like you is my entire goal in life,” said Sherrinford dryly. 

 

Aurora straightened her back.  “You can’t honestly tell me you gained anything worth noting in the last hour, can you?”

 

Sherrinford grimaced, and Aurora smirked into her microscope.  “Odd end to it, though.  Stanislavsky wanted to know if we’d be wrapping up any of our projects anytime soon.”

 

Aurora bristled.  “ _Finish_?  He cannot be serious.  We have at least six weeks on the calves’ embryos alone, and the atomized chemical compounds will take another two months—”

 

“I told him!”

 

“He _knows_ you can’t rush scientific discovery!”

 

“He knows!”

 

“He’s the one who assigned me half these projects in the first place – he _knows_ I’m working full tilt with barely a day off—!”

 

Sherrinford blinked as his world view – or at least his view of Aurora – shifted.  “You think you’re working full tilt?”

 

Aurora stopped mid-rant and looked at him.  “Well…yes.  You know that, you’ve remarked on me never leaving the lab.  Of course I’m working flat out, it’s the only way I can get everything _done_.”

 

“Just...I thought you _wanted_ to work this hard.  That it was a choice.”

 

“It is,” said Aurora, still somewhat surprised that it could even be questioned. 

 

“Oh,” said Sherrinford, and stared at Aurora for a moment.  Her cheeks were still flushed from indignation; her eyes still bright, but the slope of them made her look just a bit confused, as if the entire conversation had caught her off-guard.  Which was funny, because that was how Sherrinford felt.  He tried to shake it off.  “Anyway, he didn’t mind.  Stanislavsky.  About us being busy.  Said he didn’t want any of it to slide and waved me off.”

 

Aurora’s expression changed – her eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed together for a moment.  “What did he say, exactly?”

 

Sherrinford almost took a step back from Aurora’s scrutiny.  “Ah…he said our projects were important, and he didn’t want them to slide, and therefore he wouldn’t consider it.  Then he said I could go.”

 

“Consider what?”

 

“I don’t know, he didn’t say.”

 

“When was this?”

 

“Just now.”

 

“But when in the order of things?  Had you just presented Show-n-Tell or had everyone else gone as well?”

 

“You call it that too?”

 

“ _Hunter_.”

 

“Everyone else had gone.  I think, I sort of wasn’t paying attention.”

 

“That much is obvious!  Did he dismiss everyone or just you?”

 

“Just me.”

 

“So everyone else was still there?”

 

“Yes.”  And Sherrinford remembered the expressions on their faces.  “They looked pleased, too.”

 

“ _Bloody buggering wanking shite_!” shouted Aurora, and Sherrinford was so shocked to hear her actually curse that it took him a moment to register that she had jumped up from her chair and was storming straight for the door.  “He’s going to give it to one of _them_!”

 

“What?” Sherrinford raced to keep up with her, slamming against the laboratory door and jogging down the corridor.  “What’s he giving to them?”

 

But Aurora was too incensed to answer; Sherrinford could almost see the steam from her ears.

 

Sherrinford was sorry not to be in the conference room already when Aurora entered: even from where he trailed after her, though, he could see it was an impressive entrance.  She threw the door open and went straight in as if she were a superhero out of the comic books, and ignoring the shocked and sheepish faces of her fellow scientists, walked the length of the table to Stanislavsky at the head, who had clearly been interrupted mid sentence, as his mouth was open and a hand raised to make a point.

 

“It’s _mine_ , Stanislavsky,” growled Aurora.  _Growled_ , which was somehow hysterically funny, because it reminded Sherrinford that Aurora was, in fact, an alpha, and therefore territorial and possessive.  Stanislavsky stared at her, closing and opening his mouth in turn, before managing to gather his senses.

 

“Dr Holmes,” he said, “what a lovely surprise?” 

 

And he _giggled_.  It was probably nerves.  Sherrinford settled in by the doorway to watch.

 

Aurora’s eyes narrowed.  “Mine.  You know perfectly well that I’m the best clinical researcher you have on staff, particularly when it pertains to genetic codes and markers.  I have run six successful trials of two of the leading pharmaceutical medications in this area, and Hunter is well on his way to being the leading expert in the cross-pollination of genetic anomalies.  I fail to see what sort of charade you’re perpetrating here, Mikhail, when you know _perfectly_ well that the only hope you have of creating a successful inhibitor is to give the project to my team.”

 

Sherrinford stared at Aurora for a moment, not entirely certain he’d heard correctly.  It sounded a bit as if there had been a compliment in there.

 

Stanislavsky, on the other hand, looked a bit lost.  “I…”

 

Aurora held out her hand, clearly waiting for something.  Stanislavsky looked as if he might cry.  The other scientists watched, gob-smacked.

 

Sherrinford held his breath.

 

And then, as if realizing he really had no other choice, Stanislavsky put a thick file of papers into Aurora’s waiting hand.

 

Aurora smiled sweetly.  “Thank you,” she said, as if she were truly honored to receive it, and hadn’t just come storming in demanding it as her due.  “You can expect our first report at the next departmental meeting.”

 

“Sherry’s report, you mean,” muttered one of the assistants at the table – Tim, Sherrinford thought, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Aurora to check.

 

At any rate, Aurora appeared not to hear the comment.  Instead, she turned and walked briskly out of the room, passing Sherrinford without a word or glance.  Sherrinford glanced at the stormy faces sitting around the conference table, and decided he was much better off following her without a word than he would have been to stay for an extra second.

 

Aurora walked briskly back to the laboratory, Sherrinford at her heels.  She waited until the door was closed behind him before she turned on him, and that was when Sherrinford realized how angry she still was.

 

“How could you?  How… _could_ you?  Do you not realize what you nearly did there?  To me?  To _us_?  This study – this study is the entire reason that Stanislavsky wanted you here and you nearly gave it up to one of those…those… _morons_!  Those imbeciles!  Do you have any idea what they would have done with it?  Not just ruined it – not just set medical science back a decade, but they would have _destroyed_ it, they would have come up with some ridiculous conclusion that inhibitors are impossible, that any hope for people like you to integrate into society is foolhardy and ridiculous at best!  Is that what you want, to be the only one of your kind, the special snowflake that proves the rule?”

 

Sherrinford’s heart was pounding; his breath came in great gulps.  He felt the door at his back; he hadn’t even realized he’d been backing up, away from Aurora, until he found himself pressed against the door, the handle digging into his side.

 

“I…” he said, and licked his lips.  Aurora’s eyes were blazing with anger, her hair falling out of the messy ponytail, making soft ringlets around her face.  Her cheeks were rosy, and her breath was about as heavy as his own.

 

She was gorgeous, and Sherrinford struggled to find his breath, when the words started to make sense.

 

_Medical science.  Genetic anomalies.  People like you.  Integration.  Inhibitor_.

 

“An inhibitor,” said Sherrinford, dazed by the realization and by Aurora standing so close.  “A…suppressant, for omegas.  That’s what the study is?  That’s what you mean by people like me?”

 

The expression on Aurora’s face changed – it became softer, a bit more surprised.  “You didn’t know?”

 

“How could I know?  He didn’t say anything!  He just asked what we were working on and when we’d finish and then he kicked me out!”

 

Aurora let out a shocked huff and turned away.  She took a few steps, leaned up on a table, and then seemed to shake it off.  “Right,” she said, firmly, as if she’d just decided something.  “He nearly played us _both_ for fools.  He’s an idiot.  No matter.  We have it now.  We’d best get started.”

 

Sherrinford reached for the file, but Aurora held it out of the way.  “You have cells to examine.”

 

Sherrinford burst into laughter.  “Who cares about cells?  You’re telling me we get to work on an estrus suppressant – we get to be the ones to develop it – and you want me to look at an experiment that’s meant to solve _headaches_?  Aurora, you can’t be serious.”

 

Aurora went very still.  “What did you call me?”

 

Sherrinford’s entire body went cold.  “Ah…sorry.  I didn’t mean…Dr Holmes.  Forgive me.  I was caught up in the excitement of the moment.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” said Aurora, a bit dazed.

 

“It’s just – I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“No, it’s fine.  It’s good, it’s….”  Aurora took a breath.  “I…you can call me Aurora.  I’d…like that.”

 

Sherrinford swallowed.  “Okay.  Sure.”

 

“But only in the laboratory,” said Aurora quickly.  “And when we’re alone.  I mean…when no one else is around… I…ah….”  The blush in her cheeks rose quickly, until her entire face was pink.

 

“I know what you mean,” said Sherrinford. 

 

Aurora nodded briskly.  “Well.  Cell structures are still very important, Mr Hunter, it wouldn’t do to ignore our current work just because we have gained an exciting new project.  Besides, what you learn by observing them may prove to be very helpful in our new endeavor.”

 

Sherrinford nodded, unable to keep the smile off his face.  “Sherrinford.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You can call me Sherrinford.  That’s my name.”  Aurora looked at him, and Sherrinford grinned wider.  “But only when we’re alone, of course.  In the laboratory.”

 

“Right,” said Aurora, absently.  “Sherrinford.”

 

Sherrinford thought he might start floating.  “I’ll go look at those cells now,” he said, and went back to work.

 

It was another minute at least before Aurora began to move.  When Sherrinford looked up again, she was back at her desk, reading the papers in the file, looking perfectly at ease and studious. 

 

The blush was still on her cheeks.


	3. Chapter Two

The project was the best thing Sherrinford had ever worked on.  He’d always enjoyed going into the lab, but now he woke before five every morning, his mind bursting with ideas to try, new ways of looking at the problem. There were a multitude of issues to consider: not just estrus itself, but its side effects that were equally persuasive in keeping omegas “safe” under lock and key:  scenting and the rise in blood pressure, the loss of inhibitions, the feverish state of desire. 

 

“But those aren’t as important,” said Aurora briskly, when Sherrinford brought them up.  “If we can stop estrus from occurring in the first place, then those things will never be an issue.”

 

“Is that the goal?  To stop it from happening entirely?”

 

“Of course.  It’s a horrible, degrading, messy process, I hardly think anyone would _want_ to go through it.  Better that we give people an option to end it, full stop, if they shouldn’t want to experience it.”

 

Sherrinford shook his head slowly, looking at Aurora with slightly new eyes.  “You…I thought they were joking.”

 

Aurora frowned at him.  “I abhor generalizations.  Who was joking about what?”

 

Sherrinford felt the blood rise in his cheeks; he felt a bit like a student caught daydreaming during lessons.  “Well…you know.  What everyone says.  About you…never…that is….”

 

Aurora didn’t breathe; she continued to watch him, her face inscrutable and strange.

 

“It’s…it’s really not that bad,” Sherrinford said, more of a mumble than anything else, and turned back to his petri dishes. 

 

“You can’t say you actually _enjoy_ it.”

 

“Parts of it are very nice,” said Sherrinford loftily.  “Anyway, not everyone would want them to stop, full stop.  Maybe just…ease the way to make them more bearable in company.  It’d be nice to step out of the flat and not worry about the nearest half dozen alphas fighting over me.”

 

A quiet intake of breath from Aurora; Sherrinford went terribly still, and closed his eyes in resignation as he reviewed what he’d just said.  “I…I mean… _before_ I was bonded.”

 

“That’s it,” breathed Aurora.  “Bonded Omegas long separated from their partners can stop experiencing estrus for a time!  If we can replicate that state in an _unbonded_ omega – trick their bodies into _thinking_ they’re bonded to an absent partner….”

 

By the time Sherrinford turned around, Aurora was already simultaneously scribbling at the chalk board and reading one of the research studies they’d pulled from the library.  “You’d need something to mask scent.  And inhibit the fever-state and spike in blood pressure.”

 

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Aurora impatiently.  “Go work on that and stop talking, you’re distracting me.”

 

Sherrinford hadn’t realized how pleasant the laboratory had become, despite the insults and brush-offs, until the first few times he’d tried to join the other assistants at lunch after the new assigned project.  They had always been enjoyable, before, if a little uncomfortable, particularly once Sherrinford had started considering Aurora to be more of a colleague than an actual mentor.  But slowly he became aware of the unspoken resentment from the other assistants, angry again at how another prized assignment had not been given to them.  Instead of friendly and joking, lunches became stiff and stilted, with too many unsaid accusations and dark, angry looks.  The second time Sherrinford watched Alyssa fix him with a petulant glare as she stabbed the cafeteria chicken, Sherrinford decided to take his lunch back to the lab.  Or better still, bring it in and not endure their resentment at all.

 

“You shouldn’t eat in here,” said Aurora mildly when he returned with a sandwich.

 

“We drink tea.”

 

“That’s _tea_.”

 

“I have to observe the cell dissolution,” lied Sherrinford.  Aurora would know it was a lie, but perhaps she’d also know why and allow it.  He munched on the sandwich while she stared at him.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said finally.  “I am not very much liked within the department.  In fact, I dare say I’m hated outright by everyone working here.  I am sorry if that dislike has been transferred to you.”

 

Sherrinford glanced up from the petri dishes.  “That’s not true.  I like you.”

 

Aurora’s mouth opened as if to respond, but nothing came out.  She blinked rapidly, and then turned back to her microscope.

 

“Don’t let crumbs fall into the samples, please.  There really aren’t very many geographically unbonded omegas able or willing to donate their cells for science.”

 

“I’ll be careful,” said Sherrinford, and noted the particularly stiff note to Aurora’s voice.

 

The funny thing about it was that he _did_ like her.  She was cool and aloof and so fantastically clever it was intimidating.  She didn’t have much of a sense of humor that Sherrinford could see and she was utterly disdainful of anyone who didn’t measure up to her lofty view of the world. 

 

But she was patient with him, too.  She waited for him to reach a conclusion she’d found five or ten minutes earlier, often leading him through it until he discovered it on his own, and if she was a bit annoyed by the delay, she was never actually annoyed with _him_.  She might have had high standards but they were never entirely unreasonable or unreachable: Sherrinford could look at himself and see that under her tutelage, he was becoming a better, more careful scientist, simply because she expected it of him. 

 

But what Sherrinford liked about her the most was her drive: she was entirely focused on their new project, throwing herself and every spare moment into it as if her very life depended on its success.  Sherrinford wasn’t entirely sure why she was so dedicated – it wasn’t as though she had an omega at home who could have benefited from estrus inhibitors.  It wasn’t as though Aurora needed them herself, or even the alpha equivalent, if the rumors he’d heard in the cafeteria months before were true.  But sometimes he’d look up and see her concentrating on some small aspect of the problem, muttering to herself and ignoring the tendrils of hair that came loose from her bun or plait or ponytail, and he’d be struck with something that forced him to keep looking at her, unable to look away.

 

“Sherrinford.”

 

She was, quite simply, amazing.  A force to be reckoned with.  Unlike any other alpha he’d ever met.  She didn’t treat him like a child just because of his presentation; she treated him the same as every other scientist in the department – in fact, she treated him _better_ , in that she actually respected him.  Or seemed to do so.  She was kind and patient and Sherrinford had no doubt she was entirely capable of being quite caring, particularly with any omega under her care, in need of her assistance…of _her_.…

 

“Sherrinford!”

 

She was looking right at him.

 

Sherrinford shook himself out of his reverie.  “Ah, yes?” 

 

“They’re dissolved,” said Aurora, her eyebrows arched.  “Are you feeling quite all right?”

 

“Ah, yes.  I am.  Yes.”  Sherrinford jumped up.  It wasn’t like him for his mind to wander like that.  God, if she had _seen_ what he was thinking….  “I have to wait twenty-four hours before I can read the results.”

 

“I’m aware, yes,” said Aurora, eyes still a bit narrowed as she looked at him.

 

“I’ll just put them aside and check on them tomorrow,” stammered Sherrinford, and for some reason, he was terribly anxious to get away, out from under Aurora’s sudden scrutiny.  Christ, only a minute ago, he’d been thinking how nice it would be to be the center of her focus, and now that she wouldn’t take her eyes off him, all he could think about was how it felt like every spotlight on the world was focused directly on the back of his neck. 

 

“Off you pop, then,” said Aurora, and Sherrinford made his escape, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as he was out the door.

 

The hot feeling didn’t go away.  He was five minutes from home when he glanced at the dates on the newspaper board as he exited the tube station and realized why.

 

_Oh, no.  Oh_ no _._

*

 

_knock knock knock_

 

He barely heard the knock on the door, but that was because he thought it was his heart pounding in his ears.

 

_knock knock knock_

 

He thought it’d been part of his dream (the very nice part where the bed was shaking so hard it was banging into the wall), but even after he opened his eyes, it continued.

 

_knock knock knock_

 

Whoever it was had to go away eventually, didn’t they?

 

_knock knock knock_

 

“Go away,” said Sherrinford into his pillow, which he was hugging tightly.  It wasn’t so bad that he was humping it, but that stage wasn’t too far off.

 

k _nock knock knock_

 

“Sherrinford?”

 

Oh, Christ. 

 

And then the voice registered.

 

_Oh, Christ!_

 

“I can’t _believe_ you!  Still in bed and it’s nearly eleven and you’ve missed a day of work already!  Don’t you understand that the cells you dissolved two days ago have been completely destroyed?”

 

“Oh, bloody hell,” groaned Sherrinford, and he struggled to sit up in the bed.  “I’m sorry.  Don’t come in, please.”

 

But her voice kept getting closer.  “You were meant to record your observations about them _yesterday_ , and now they’re gone and we _discussed_ this, geographically unbonded omega cells do _not_ come cheap – you have deliberately invalidated this experiment and it will take _weeks_ to replicate it.”

 

She was in the hallway now.  It would only be another minute before she came in the room, and then they’d both be lost…. “Please stay back!  It wasn’t deliberate!  I’m sorry, I lost track of time….” 

 

“You’ve put us in danger of not making our deadline, I cannot believe you would be so irresponsible as to….”

 

The door to his bedroom opened, and the moment the wave of pheromones hit her, Aurora stopped talking.  Stopped moving.  In fact, just stopped altogether. 

 

“I….”  Aurora took a breath, and then seemed to think better of it as she held it tightly.  “You’re in heat.”

 

“Yeah.  I…lost track of time.  Didn’t realize until I was nearly home.”

 

“You could have rung.”

 

“I tried, I left messages with the department secretary.”

 

“I didn’t receive them.”

 

Sherrinford tried not to laugh.  “Do you even remember where to pick them up?”

 

“No.”  Aurora gripped the doorframe.  “I…you....”  She glanced around the room, and then her eyes widened.  “You’re alone.”

 

_Christ_.  Sherrinford closed his eyes.  “I am.”

 

“Your alpha….” Aurora swallowed.  “You’re _bonded_.”

 

Sherrinford snorted.  “I know you’re not stupid.  Even with all the pheromones in the air, Aurora – you’re not _stupid_.  Go on.  Figure it out.  I’m having a heat, and there’s no alpha around.  You know as well as I do, 95% of bonded omegas without their alphas in attendance don’t have heats.  So you tell me what’s wrong with this picture.”

 

Sherrinford didn’t have to watch Aurora look around the room – but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  He saw her look at the dresser – just the one, with one wallet and set of keys resting on top. 

 

The one side table on the one side of the bed, with one clock and one book, halfway read.

 

The one closet, with clothes that came in one size and one style.

 

The tiny door leading to the tiny lavatory, where in a cup on the sink rested one toothbrush.

 

“You’re not bonded.”

 

“No.” 

 

Sherrinford tried to breathe.  It was difficult; his heart was pounding and his breath felt insubstantial.  He was light-headed – everything seemed terribly funny and wrong and so very, very perfect, having Aurora there just as his heat was really kicking in – just as his body was telling him, _yes, yes, need something, someone, anyone, oh God, there’s an alpha, she’s lovely, want her_ , _she’s smart and she thinks I’m smart too_ ….

 

Why wasn’t she leaving?  Why was she still standing there?  Why was she…oh, God, she was _still talking_.

 

“You lied on your applications,” said Aurora, and her voice went high and quick.  “To Abotech, obviously, but even to school I should think, or they never would have let you into the general population of university.  An unbonded omega in class?  Impossible.  The liability alone when you brought some alpha’s ruin by snaring them in.”

 

Sherrinford winced.  “Yes, I lied.  I didn’t have a choice.”

 

“There’s always a choice.”

 

“Not for me.  Not for _my kind_ , as you put it.” 

 

“How did you do it?” demanded Aurora, and she took another step into the room.  “The bond bite, the scent markers – it’s all there, exactly as if you _are_ bonded.  But you can’t be, unless you’re one of the five percent.”

 

The longing emptiness in his gut intensified as she drew closer.  Sherrinford doubled over and held tight to the pillow.  Somehow, he managed to reach for the drawer in the bedside table, and pulled out the small cloth bag to throw at Aurora, who caught it neatly.

 

“Fake teeth,” she said, peering inside.  “Make-up.  And…a cream?”

 

Sherrinford nodded. 

 

She unscrewed it and took a sniff, before wincing and pulling back with a grimace.  “A topical solution – but it’s not an alpha scent, or even a bonded omega one, it’s different.  It’s….”

 

And then Aurora swooped down, put her nose directly against Sherrinford’s neck, and took in a deep breath.  Her mouth was hot against his skin; the damp skin where she sniffed against it grew pleasantly chilled and cool, goosebumps rising along with the hair on the back of his neck as he instinctively rolled his head back to give her better access.

 

_Oh_ , he thought, somewhat dazed, and let out an aching, protracted moaning sigh with the sudden rush of endorphins.  His hands moved of their own volition to grasp Aurora’s waist when she just as abruptly pulled away, back to her pacing.

 

“Of course!  It’s reactionary; by applying it every day it reacts with your own sweat glands, which then produce a scent mimicking that of a bonded omega….”

 

Sherrinford’s hands gripped open air; the frustration rose under his skin.  He thought he could almost feel the blood coursing through his veins.  It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant of feelings.

 

“Not mimic,” said Sherrinford through gritted teeth.  “ _Does_ produce a scent.”

 

Aurora’s mouth dropped open, her eyes suddenly going unfocused.  “Oh.  _Oh_.  You mean you actually manipulated your own glands to emit the specific quality that indicates a bonded status?”

 

“Do you even _look_ at the notes I give you?” groaned Sherrinford, and he fell to his side while Aurora continued to pace, muttering to herself. 

 

“But this is fantastic, this is exactly the breakthrough we needed - the ability to fool the body into believing the something has changed.  And if it’s possible to do it with sweat glands so that you emit the same scent as a bonded omega, then it should be possible to take that information and somehow apply it to the problem of estrus itself, thereby convincing the body that hormone emission is impossible.”

 

This was impossible.  Aurora was going to spend the entire heat walking around his room, talking about scientific discovery and completely ignoring him.  And worse, smelling like a very available, very attractive, very desirable alpha.

 

Sherrinford struggled to sit up again.  “Aurora…great that you’ve made a breakthrough that I made _when I was fifteen_ , but if you don’t mind, I’m having some trouble here….”

 

“ _Fifteen_!?!”  Aurora turned to stare at him.  “You’re telling me you discovered this when you were _fifteen_?  And I’m only learning about its existence _now_?”

 

“I put all my notes about it on your desk _three weeks ago_.”

 

“Oh!”  Aurora’s face broke into the widest smile imaginable – to say it was the widest Sherrinford had ever seen would be equally true, as he couldn’t recall ever seeing Aurora smile at all.  For a moment, he was struck dumb by it: the way that her eyes widened and became brighter; her face lost the lean, half-starved look and became fuller, more colorful.  She clapped her hands together – like a child on Christmas morning, really – and she let out such a lovely peal of laughter that Sherrinford decided then and there that if he could only stand up, he would kiss her and completely destroy any chance he had of remaining in the best job he could ever have hoped to find, because suddenly the idea of _kissing_ Aurora Holmes had taken over his mind in a way that he was fairly certain had nothing to do with his current hormonal state.

 

“You wonderful man,” said Aurora, and Sherrinford didn’t have to stand after all, because she fell to her knees and kissed him. 

 

Cool lips, firmly pressed to him, soft and sweet.  The scent of honey and caramel, her soft skin under his fingers, her dark hair brushing his hand as he caught her cheek.  She was cool and warm all at once, her skin flushed with excitement and faintly damp, as if she’d come to his flat so quickly she’d broken into a sweat. 

 

He opened his mouth – he couldn’t have helped it – and her tongue found his, almost immediately.  Just as eager, he thought, just as willing to respond to the pheromones he was undoubtedly putting out at an exponential rate, now that she was near.  

 

_I’m kissing Aurora Holmes._

 

It was bliss.  It was terror.  His heart pounded and his brain, already fuzzy with the beginnings of estrus, went completely spastic.  He wanted to pull her down on top of him and let her fuck him open; he wanted to hold her at arm’s length and let the first tender moments of a kiss last for years; he wanted to wrap his arms around her and keep her close, let them make love slowly until they were crying out for each other in voices broken and desperate.

 

He _wanted_. 

 

He had exactly two seconds of complete and total bliss, her lips managing to still be warm under his hot mouth, before she pulled away with a pop.

 

Sherrinford couldn’t open his eyes, no matter how desperately he wanted to see Aurora’s face.  He catalogued her left hand on his right cheek, her right hand pressed to the mattress near his left hip, the way her breath was coming in quick and shallow, only inches from his face.  She was staring at him, he knew it, her mind was working a thousand things at once, she’d be battling her own desires against what was right and proper in terms of their working relationship.

 

Never before in his entire life had Sherrinford been so grateful for biology and his irresistible omega pheromones as he was right then, because maybe Aurora would forget the logic and just kiss him again.

 

But she didn’t – she held her breath as he stroked his thumb along her cheek, too afraid to open his eyes.  He could hear her breath, quick-paced as if she’d run a marathon.  It matched the beating of his heart.

 

_God, I want you.  I want you so much.  I want_ you _, please let me have you.  Please._

 

It was the waiting more than anything that forced the whisper past Sherrinford’s lips: “Aurora, _please_.”

 

“I…can’t,” said Aurora, more sob than statement, and then she was gone, cold air against Sherrinford’s cheek, cold breeze marking her abrupt and swift departure. 

 

Somewhere, a door slammed.  Sherrinford supposed it was symbolic, really, and fell back against the mattress to ride out the rest of the week alone.

 

*

 

He found her in the laboratory a week later.  She was looking through her microscope, per usual, and didn’t so much as turn her head when he came in.

 

“I just wanted to say goodbye.”

 

He thought he saw her jerk a little.  He wasn’t sure.  The room was very bright.

 

“I’ll turn in my resignation once I’ve done replicating the cell structure experiment.  I don’t think you’ll have problems replacing me; I know there’s a few assistants quite keen to work on this project.”

 

“Stop talking nonsense, Mr Hunter,” said Aurora briskly, and Sherrinford looked away and laughed softly.

 

“Right, of course.  If that’s how you want it, we’ll be Hunter and Holmes again, or at least until I’m gone for good.”

 

“Mr Hunter, the cell structures are in the cooler; I think you’ll find they’re ready for your observations.  If you could please record them before going over your notes on scent marker manipulation, I would very much appreciate your attending to matter at hand rather than any ridiculous notion you have about tendering a resignation that I will not acknowledge.”

 

Sherrinford stared at her for a moment.  “I…I don’t even know where to begin with that.”

 

Aurora sighed and looked up from her microscope.  “All right then, I’ll do it for you.  The cell structures are in the cooler.  I set them up yesterday since I knew you would return today and I did not want to lose any more time than we already have.”

 

“ _You_ set them up?”

 

“I _am_ capable of arranging my own experiments, Mr Hunter,” said Aurora coolly.  “The cell structures are, of course, time-sensitive, so if you could examine them once you are over your shock, I would appreciate it.  Once you have done that, I’d like you to replicate your manufacture of the scent marker cream you showed me.  I have read your notes but I believe they are incomplete because I cannot replicate it with any degree of accuracy – the scent is wildly incorrect, and I assure you my olfactory senses were working perfectly at the time.”

 

Sherrinford opened his mouth as if to make a remark, but looking at the strange, dark, absent look on Aurora’s face, he thought better of it and snapped his mouth closed again.

 

“As for your resignation: I do not accept. You will remain here as my assistant.”

 

“I lied on my application,” said Sherrinford.   “I’m here under false pretenses.”

 

“None that matter,” said Aurora. 

 

“I’ll be fired anyway once they find out,” insisted Sherrinford.

 

“And who, may I ask, will tell them?”

 

Sherrinford frowned.  “Well…you.”

 

Aurora held out her hand, palm up.  Sherrinford stared at it for a moment, and then fumbled with his briefcase before extracting the single page he’d spent most of the night trying to write.  He handed it to her.

 

Aurora didn’t even bother to look at it.  She walked straight over to one of the Bunsen burners, and promptly set the page on fire.

 

“What the hell, Aurora!”

 

Aurora dropped the burning page into the sink, where it continued to burn to ash.  Sherrinford ran over, ready to rescue it from destruction, but he could tell with a glance that it was already half gone. 

 

“Your resignation has been duly noted and filed in the appropriate receptacle.  Please examine the cell structures, _Mr Hunter_ , before they completely disintegrate and we have to replicate the experiment a _third_ time.”

 

Sherrinford stared at the page as it finished burning.  Somewhere over to his left, Aurora had returned to her microscope, clearly believing the conversation was at an end.

 

“So that’s it?  We’re just going to go right on as if nothing happened last week?”

 

Aurora’s shoulders were tense.  She stared into her microscope as if her very life depended on it. Clearly unwilling to discuss what she’d found at his flat – or what she’d done in the moments before she left it.  Left _him_.

 

“You could have stayed,” said Sherrinford, almost desperately.  “I wanted you to.  I…wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

 

Aurora was very still.  “Quite the endorsement of your feelings on the matter, I’m sure.  ‘Wouldn’t mind’.  Thank you for that.”

 

“That’s not what I meant—”

 

“I am not the sort of alpha who will force herself on an omega just because he is available, desirable, and at my mercy, Mr Hunter,” said Aurora shortly.  “Apart from the impropriety in our forming a relationship, you were in no condition to give consent – to me or to any alpha who happened to pass by.”

 

In a way, it stung: it was, after all, a rejection.  And oddly enough, it was acceptance, too, and Sherrinford wasn’t sure if he was relieved or incredibly disappointed.

 

“Thank you,” he said finally, and paused, because he knew what he should say next, and the professional-sounding words didn’t fit well in his mouth anymore.  “Doctor Holmes.”

 

She hesitated before she nodded, he was sure of it. Just for a few moments, as if hearing her title instead of her name had caught her by surprise.

 

He watched her for another moment before he turned to pull the chilled cell structures out of storage.

 

*

 

The following months were the strangest ones Sherrinford had ever experienced.  Aurora was professional to a fault – of course, she had always been professional, but now she was aloof and detached as well.  She used Sherrinford’s last name almost as a shield, pushing him away even when they made the most brilliant discoveries, edging closer and closer to their final goal. 

 

“Well done, Mr Hunter!  You can discard the samples now.” 

 

“Interesting hypothesis, Mr Hunter, now go and prove it.”

 

“Yes, I think that will do very nicely, Mr Hunter.  I leave it to you to incorporate it into the final dosage.”

 

It was lucky, Sherrinford supposed, that the work was captivating, because apart from the times he was in the laboratory, completely immersed in what he was doing, he was terribly lonely.  Of course, he had always been lonely, from the moment he realized he was a great deal cleverer than any of the other children he met, and especially so after his presentation as an omega, when he had surpassed what the omega schools were able to teach him, and relied on private tutors.  But now he wore his loneliness, if not like a piece of armor or even sackcloth, then a long-familiar blanket around his shoulders. 

 

The other assistants had long since stopped talking to him.  Sherrinford found that he didn’t miss _them_ so much as he missed the genial fellowship of company.  It was just as well, really; he had no desire to see the envy in their eyes.

 

His few university chums were confused how his life differed so vividly from their own, with their regular 9-to-5 jobs and their children waiting at home.  When would he start breeding for his alpha – and what was his name again?

 

Even the other residents in his building seemed to fade away, and he rarely saw them – though that could have been because of his increasingly odd hours at the labs.

 

The only time he didn’t feel the aching pull of loneliness was in the laboratory, with Aurora somewhere behind him, scratching her pencil to paper and talking herself through whatever she was doing.  It made for a pleasant background noise, and Sherrinford worked harder than he ever had in his life, desperate to find something, _anything_ , that would make a real contribution. 

 

And slowly, gradually, the solution began to take shape, until one day, some six months after they began, they both stared at a vial on the table, shimmering pearlescent, and the laboratory was dead quiet.

 

“It’s done?” asked Sherrinford, hardly able to believe it.

 

“The world’s first estrus inhibitor,” said Aurora, exhausted and pleased and sounding fairly content and proud.  “Hardly perfect – I’m not entirely certain it will cease all outward symptoms of an estrus, but I do think it’s a good first show, and certainly ready for the first trials.”

 

Sherrinford caught his breath, and stared at the vial of liquid.  The blood rushed in his ears.

 

“How…how long do the trials take?”

 

Beside him, Aurora stiffened, and something about her neck seemed…tense, almost.

 

“The animal trials will take at least six months, if not longer, before we can even think to test on humans.  And even then it will be with a select group of omegas who understand the risks.  I doubt it will be widely available to the general public for at least two years, Mr Hunter, if not more.  I’m sorry if that’s too slow for you.  I know what a relief it will be to have this medication available to you so that you can continue your career unhindered.”

 

Sherrinford looked sharply at Aurora.  “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“Your estrus, of course.  Never having to remove yourself from your work to experience it again.  I can completely understand how glad you will be to rid yourself of that part of your biology.”

 

Sherrinford couldn’t quite see Aurora’s face, but he had to hold back the incredulous laughter.  “Is that what you think?  I’m doing this so I don’t have to have a heat ever again?”

 

She did turn to look at him then: her forehead creased with slight befuddlement.  “Isn’t it?”

 

“No!  I’m doing this because I want the _choice_ about my heats – when and where and who with.  I want to take back the control over my own body that I lost when I presented as an omega.  I don’t want to give _up_ my heats.  Why on earth would I want to do _that_?”

 

Aurora stared at him for a moment, and then turned away, shaking her head and laughing softly.  It wasn’t kind laughter.  She busied herself at her microscope, though Sherrinford had no idea what she actually needed to examine.  “Honestly, Mr Hunter.  I have to wonder about your rationality: you can’t mean to say that you _enjoy_ your heats. Losing your senses, being controlled by your hormones, the powerful need to couple with any alpha who happens to pass by?”

 

_Any alpha…_   Sherrinford’s heart pounded.  “That’s a myth, you know – that omegas completely lose all rational thought during estrus.  We know what’s happening.  We know who it’s happening with.  And we do have the ability to say ‘No’.  Not everyone has the strength to listen.”

 

“Aren’t you lucky that some do, then,” said Aurora stiffly. 

 

Sherrinford stared at her back silently for a moment.  She was barely breathing that he could tell; and certainly there wasn’t anything in the microscope, yet she was looking through it as though it held the key to the universe.

 

“I meant what I said.  When you found me.  When I asked—”

 

He never had the chance to finish the statement.

 

“We’ll start with the rabbits,” said Aurora to the microscope.  “Please make the appropriate arrangements.”

 

Sherrinford swallowed the rest of his protest, and looked at the vial again.  He clenched his hands into fists, pressed them both hard against his thighs. 

 

“Right,” he said, his voice as tight and stiff as hers.  “Half a dozen.  Tomorrow, you think?”

 

“Yes, if possible.”

 

“Righto,” said Sherrinford, glared at the little vial, and went.

 

*

 

At the end of the first month, when the rabbits didn’t die and had all come through their estruses – or lack thereof – without medical problems, Sherrinford went ahead with his plan. 

 

“Did you mix the dosage for today’s injections, Mr Hunter?”

 

Sherrinford quickly slid the extra vial in his coat pocket.  “Yes, Dr Holmes, it’s on the table.”

 

Sherrinford felt the vial burning in his pocket the rest of the afternoon.  He followed Aurora as she administered the injections one by one to the test rabbits, carefully cataloguing each injection on their charts, and taking their temperatures and other vitals as they went.  He observed them at half-hour intervals, working on other projects in the meantime, and when it was finally time to go home, he stopped at the door to glance back to Aurora, who was jotting down notes from three separate sources into one permanent file.

 

“I’m off home, Dr Holmes.”

 

“Right, goodnight, Mr Hunter,” said Aurora, distracted, and that was all.  No piercing stare at his pocket; no accusatory glance; no stern reprimand.  Sherrinford left the building, convinced that at any moment, someone would clap their hand on his shoulder and drag him back, demanding that he explain himself.

 

Instead, he arrived at home, and went straight into his lavatory.  His hands shook as he assembled the needle, filled it with the pearlescent liquid from the vial, and tapped out the air bubbles.

 

He took his temperature, his blood pressure, his heart rate, and wrote them down in the brand-new notebook he’d purchased the day before, and then set everything to the side and stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment.

 

“Buck up, Hunter.  It’s the only way.”

 

When he injected the fluid into his thigh, his hands didn’t shake at all.

 


	4. Chapter Three

By the third cycle, Aurora decided it was time to reintroduce the alpha rabbits into the mix.  Previously, the omega rabbits had been kept secluded as they underwent their hormonal conditioning, and the experiment had gone very smoothly.  None of the omegas had experienced estrus – at least, none of the rabbits had undergone ovulation, though there had been some outward signs of a false estrus at the appropriate time, with a slight increase in temperature, blood pressure, and increased irritability, if the bite marks were anything to go by. 

 

But introducing an alpha into the mix – basically overriding the drug’s attempt to convince the omega’s body that their alphas were absent – would surely produce an interesting effect.  Or not.  Sherrinford was rather confident of the “not”. 

 

After all, he’d been around alphas for a month, and he felt fine.  Better than fine, really: his vitals had been steady and his head felt perfectly clear and rational in a way he had forgotten was possible.  The only real issue was his slightly lessened sense of smell, but considering the rabbits that currently lived in their laboratory, that might have been a blessing.

 Still. It was with some amount of trepidation that Sherrinford carried the alpha cages into the lab and set them on the table. 

 

“Excellent,” said Aurora, looking up from her notes.  She proceeded to shuffle them all into a pile.  “I assume you brought the matched pairs as well as the unmatched alphas?”

 

Sherrinford resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but it was a near thing.  “Yes, Dr Holmes, they’re all here.  Which do you want to introduce first?”

 

“The unmatched, I think.  I have no doubt that the matched pairs, once reintroduced to each other, will spark estrus.  False, most likely, but there is surely something that will occur, biologically speaking.”

 

“Makes sense,” said Sherrinford, and he checked the labels on the cages before pulling out an unmatched alpha.  A great big buck, milk-chocolate brown with some black markings.  The rabbit fought Sherrinford for a few moments before cuddling close to him and going still.

 

Aurora had already collected one of the omega rabbits – a little doe, the prettiest of the lot, Sherrinford thought, mottled white and grey.  Aurora set her down on the table, and the doe hopped a little toward where Sherrinford held the buck, before stopping and quivering, as if she suddenly realized that she was, for all practical purposes, bait.

 

“What is your hypothesis, Mr Hunter?”

 

Sherrinford set the buck down, but didn’t release him just yet.  “Indifference.  The buck will be interested in the doe, but only to determine what she is.  She doesn’t have the typical scent markers, so I think he will ultimately ignore her.”

 

Aurora nodded thoughtfully.  “That is one possibility, yes.  There is another, of course.”

 

Sherrinford looked up, wondering what he’d missed.  Aurora was focused on the doe, and there was a tight look in her eyes that Sherrinford couldn’t quite place.

 

“And that is?” prodded Sherrinford when Aurora didn’t speak.

 

“He could assume she is an anomaly, and as such, a threat to his den.  And therefore, attack her with the intent to kill.”

 

Sherrinford swallowed, and held onto the buck tightly.  The buck let out a squeak in protest, which startled him enough to let the animal free.

 

“Well,” he said, watching the buck nervously.  “Let’s hope not.”

 

They both held their breaths, watching the two rabbits come closer together.  The buck did appear to be very curious about the doe, but cautious all the same; he would hop a bit closer, sniff, look around him, and then hop again.  The doe, by contrast, merely waited, crouched with her ears flat against her head, and watched the buck as if she believed Aurora’s second theory was accurate. 

 

When at last the buck was within touching distance, he stretched his neck out, gave one long, protracted sniff…and then pulled away, before hopping back to the other half of the table, as if he’d found the doe curious, but not particularly interesting.

 

Sherrinford let out a relieved sigh.

 

“Well,” said Aurora, and she sounded just as relieved as Sherrinford felt.  “Let’s give them a few carrots and kibble, Mr Hunter, while we match the others up.”

 

Sherrinford felt almost giddy with relief.  “I’ll put them in one of the pens,” he said, and carried first the doe, and then the buck, into one of the holding pens on the far side of the laboratory, where they wouldn’t be able to escape, but would still be in close proximity to each other.  “Brave little girl,” he said to the doe, and gave her an extra scratch behind her ears before dropping her in.  To the buck, he said, “And remember your manners now.”

 

“Mr Hunter, are you _talking_ to the rabbits?  We have five other pairs to match up, and we do need to finish this today.”

 

Sherrinford couldn’t have cared less, he was so pleased.  “Why today, Dr Holmes?  Something happening tomorrow?”

 

Aurora gave him an odd look, and she opened her mouth as if to say something, and then closed it with a snap.  “No, of course not,” she said, suddenly irritable.  “Please collect the next unmatched buck.”

 

Sherrinford did, with half an eye on Aurora, who suddenly seemed off-balance, though he couldn’t quite tell why.  She stopped briefly by her desk, checked something on her calendar, and then shaking her head, came back to the table with the doe.

 

The next two unmatched pairs had similar reactions as the first.  Curiosity, and then, once there was a lack of scent discovered and confirmed, disinterest.  By the time Sherrinford had moved the second pair to their pens, he was unable to keep the grin off his face.  He checked in on the first buck and doe, and was pleased to see that they still appeared to have no reaction to each other, though they did seem to be facing each other now, and were crouched somewhat closer than they had been previously, a bit as if they were still testing each other out.  Though that could have been the enticement of carrots, piled in the center of the pen.

 

“No change in Pair A,” said Sherrinford as he returned to the table.  “Matched pairs now?”

 

“Yes,” said Aurora.  “Hypothesis, please, Mr Hunter.”

 

Sherrinford bit his lip.  “They’ll recognize each other, I think.  Very quickly, if not immediately – and the lack of scent will be confusing, but not a deterrent.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean that I think the buck will try to mate with the doe.  As a way of reaffirming their match, or perhaps to retrigger the scent.  I have two thoughts for what will happen to the doe, though.  Well, three.  The first is that the doe’s estrus will kick-start as a true estrus, the presence of her buck overriding the medications.  This could happen immediately, or it could be delayed anywhere up to 24 hours.”

 

“I agree,” said Aurora cautiously.

 

“The second is that the doe will experience false estrus – that is, all the outward signs of estrus, but not actually ovulate.  If we were to continue the medication, the doe would continue experiencing false estrus; once we stop, she would go back on a regular cycle.”

 

“A good theory as well.  And the third?”

 

Sherrinford paused.  “The buck determines that the lack of scent marks her either as an interloper, or that she has somehow lost the ability to breed, or that perhaps she has been mated with someone else.  Hard to tell what he’d think, with rabbits – but whatever it is, he’d attempt to kill her.”

 

Aurora nodded slowly.  “We’ll continue alphabetically – if you could fetch Buck D, please.”

 

“Yes, Doctor,” said Sherrinford quietly.

 

Buck D was a bit on the smaller side, and already anxious.  He wriggled in Sherrinford’s arms so much that Sherrinford nearly dropped him twice before reaching the table, and the moment the buck spotted his doe – a little black scrap of a rabbit – he bounded straight out of Sherrinford’s arms and made a bee-line for her.

 

He stopped dead about half a foot away, and sniffed for a moment, quivering, before he mounted the rabbit and proceeded to attempt a mating.

 

Sherrinford breathed a sigh of relief that was audible enough that Aurora glanced at him. 

 

“Don’t be so sure just yet, Mr Hunter.  Your Doomsday scenario is still accurate if the doe doesn’t at least have some kind of estrus.”

 

But already it was apparent that the mating was successful; the buck’s rear end was pumping back and forth so quickly and erratic that it was blurry; the doe waited patiently below him, her eyes half closed as if she were actually enjoying herself. 

 

Sherrinford had seen rabbits mating – he hadn’t spent his university years in the college’s laboratories for nothing.  But he’d never actually seen what the buck did just then – instead of finishing with a final thrust and hopping away – he slowed down, rubbing the back of his doe with his forepaws as if to calm her, while his eyes slowly closed.  The thrusts became calmer, less frantic – and almost sensual, in the way the muscles moved beneath the glossy fur.  The doe’s muscles seemed to move in tandem, her own eyes sliding shut. 

 

And then the buck went still, holding so tightly in the doe that Sherrinford found himself holding his breath: long moments went by, only a few seconds, but they felt longer, drawn out on string, until the buck relaxed to the side, pulling his doe along with him into an exhausted slump, their feet still twitching in the air.

 

Sherrinford let out his breath, shaky and feeling hot and a bit funny, like he was bursting into sparks.

 

“Well,” said Aurora, and even she sounded a bit…strange.  Flustered, breathy…a bit like she had in Sherrinford’s bedroom two months ago.

 

No, three, Sherrinford corrected himself.

 

“I think we’ll let these two sleep it off in their pen,” said Aurora.  Her attempt to retreat would have been much smoother if she had gone in the correct direction, and not consequently bumped right into Sherrinford, nearly knocking him over.  He landed against the table with a huff of breath.  The sharp spike of pain and the sudden sweat on his brow was a complete surprise.

 

But Aurora, pressed up to him, her hair brushing his eyelashes and his nose; her hand on his elbows…that was something else altogether.  Nice.  Warm.  Smelling sweetly of shampoo and something richer, like warm caramel creams….

 

“Mr Hunter, are you all right?”

 

“Yes,” said Sherrinford, wondering why he could still smell her hair, and realized it was because she hadn’t pulled away just yet.  “Just...caught me by surprise.”

 

He looked up into her eyes, wide and impossibly dark blue.  Her mouth was just open, probably in surprise, and he could see the line on her lower lip where she’d chewed right through, worried between her teeth until it must have stung.  He wanted to lick it, just to taste the copper in her blood, and he wondered if she’d let him try.  She’d been the one to initiate the kiss three months before; wasn’t it his turn, three months later?

 

No…four.

 

_Four_ months.

 

The realization seemed to coincide with Aurora stepping away.  The scent of her hair still lingered.

 

“Mr Hunter?  If you could remove the rabbits from the table and get the next buck?”

 

_Four_.

 

“Mr Hunter!”

 

“Right!  Sorry!”  Sherrinford jumped to the table, where the buck was still clutching the doe, who seemed perfectly happy to be clutched if her half-hearted snap at Sherrinford’s attempt to separate them was any indication.  She was a bit too tired to do much about it, though, and once in their pen, they both seemed content to snuggle up next to each other, whiskers and nostrils twitching. 

 

“Vitals on the doe, please, Mr Hunter.”

 

“I know,” said Sherrinford, slightly irritable now, anxious to look at a calendar – _any_ calendar, but he took careful note of the doe’s temperature and heart rate and…yes, that was definitely evidence of an estrus.  Whether it was the real thing, or false, couldn’t be determined until the following day.

 

Except Sherrinford might not be there the following day.

 

Except Sherrinford shouldn’t have been there _right then_ , if he was remembering correctly, and he resisted the urge to excuse himself so he could check a calendar.  His temperature.  His blood pressure.  Anything, really.

 

But…it was moot, of course.  He didn’t have a bonded alpha.  And he’d hardly go into heat just by an unbonded alpha being present.  Sherrinford glanced at the first set of unbonded rabbits; sure enough, they were perfectly fine, sharing the bowl of carrots, and every so often, reaching over to nudge the other one out of the way.  Neither seemed particularly interested in taking anything to the next level, either as friend or foe.

 

Sherrinford tried to breathe more easily.  It would be fine.  It would be fine.  He was just a bit nervous about being out in public when technically he ought to have been at home, wanking like a…well…rabbit.

 

Did rabbits even wank?  He had no idea.

 

“Mr Hunter!”  Aurora sounded annoyed now; small wonder, she was already at the table with the next doe.

 

“Sorry, just coming,” said Sherrinford, and tried desperately not to blush.

 

*

 

“I’m for home,” said Sherrinford that evening.   “I’ll take their vitals again in the morning.”

 

Aurora looked up sharply from her notes.  “The morning?”

 

“Regular workday, unless I’m mistaken,” said Sherrinford firmly.  He felt fine.  Of course he felt fine.  A bit warm, but it was August, wasn’t it?  Everything was warm.

 

Aurora’s gaze was…strangely fierce.  “If you think it best.  Did you separate the bucks and does?  The unmated pairs – there’s really no need to keep them together overnight.  We wouldn’t want any accidents.”

 

“I’ll do that now.”

 

Pairs B and C were asleep on opposite sides of their pens; Sherrinford moved them into their separate cages with a light step and a pounding heart.  Almost home, almost home.  Wouldn’t be long now…a nice cool bath would feel wonderful, in this heat.  Maybe a cube of ice, right down his neck and chest and…well, all the places really.  Just the thought made him shiver.

 

The thought went straight out of his head when he reached for Pair A, but the shivering intensified.  The buck was covering the doe, its little tail working back and forth as they mated, and Sherrinford held tight to the edge of the pen and tried to breathe.  It took a few tries before he could say Aurora’s name.

 

“Doc…Doctor Holmes.  Ah…I think we have a problem.”

 

Sherrinford heard the _click-click_ of Aurora’s court shoes as she walked over to the pen, as clearly as he could feel the beating of his own heart.  He waited for the inevitable wave of pheromones that would surely hit her, drawing her closer in, drawing her to him, pulling them together in a lusty embrace…but Aurora stopped, just beside him but not touching, and peered into the pen at the rabbits, as if everything was perfectly normal.

 

Sherrinford breathed, and took stock, and realized with a start that whatever he was experiencing so far, it wasn’t anything like a typical estrus.  He could _feel_ everything, but…it was as though it happened to someone else entirely.  It was an odd sensation.

 

Aurora had gone still next to him.  “Ah,” she said.  “It would appear that the doe is in estrus.”

 

“They were touching earlier,” Sherrinford explained, still feeling the odd sense of detachment to himself.  Somewhere deep inside, he felt something shift – or maybe open, or maybe move into position.  It felt almost like a _click_ , and then there was a rush of warmth deep in his abdomen.  He wondered how he’d never felt it before. 

 

Or maybe he had, and hadn’t ever had the presence of mind to notice.

 

“Touching,” repeated Aurora, as if she wasn’t aware that such contact between rabbits was even possible.  Let alone desirable.  Touching!  How strange!  How tedious! 

 

 “I think it’s a real estrus,” he blurted out.  “When the buck touched the doe – I think it overrode the medications.”

 

“Spontaneous estrus in an unbonded pair,” said Aurora thoughtfully.  “How very curious.”

 

Sherrinford barked out a laugh.  He couldn’t help it, and when Aurora gave him a questioning glance, he slumped over the pen and tried to hide his face.

 

“I took it.”

 

“You took what?”  Aurora sounded genuinely curious and confused.

 

“I took it!  The medication!  I’m on it now.  I’ve been for a month.  I should have been in estrus two days ago, and you know it – don’t tell me you don’t.  That’s why you wanted us to do this today, isn’t it?  You thought I’d be wanking myself silly tomorrow and out for the rest of the week, unable to be much use to anyone.  But I didn’t go into estrus, did I, because I took the meds and they stalled it because it _worked_ , my body was under the impression that my alpha wasn’t anywhere around except then you had to go and _trip_ and you landed on me and we touched just like those rabbits did, and now they’re wanking like bunnies and I can feel my heat starting.  I’m going into estrus, Aurora, just like the rabbit.” 

 

Sherrinford sucked in a breath, and heard what he’d just said – oh, _God_ , had he really admitted to her that he’d taken the drugs?

 

Had he actually admitted that he would be wanking off in a few hours?

 

To _her_?

 

“Christ,” he said, amazed.  “What was _in_ that shot, truth serum?”

 

Aurora turned abruptly and walked away from him, the _click-click_ of her shoes echoing in the room.  Sherrinford watched her go, his heart still pounding in time with the sound, and sinking further into his stomach as Aurora reached the door.

 

She’d leave.  She’d walk straight out of the lab and into Stanislavsky’s office, where she’d report him for…well, whatever transgression it was for stealing meds and taking them himself and putting his life and the project in danger and then he’d be fired and escorted out of the building….was it raining?  Maybe it was raining, that’d be appropriate.  Better if it was snow but it _was_ August, rain was almost too much to hope for.

 

_Snick_.

 

Aurora locked the door to the laboratory, and Sherrinford’s eyes widened. 

 

She’d locked them both in. 

 

He gasped for a breath, only just realizing he’d been holding it.

 

“Why did you do this thing?” asked Aurora quietly, her hands still on the lock to the door.

 

Sherrinford swallowed.  “I…it’s a very strange sensation, you know.  I can feel everything going on in my body right now, but it’s like it’s happening to someone else.  I can feel my temperature rising, I can feel my heart pounding, pushing the blood through my skin faster.  It itches, more than anything else, really.  I don’t really feel anything else.  Normally, right now, I’d be hot and irritable and my cock would be rock hard – uh, sorry – well, okay, it _is_ right now – but I can’t really tell.  I mean, I _know_ it’s a bit warm, but it’s nothing terrible, I’m not going to strip down or go plant myself in front of a fan.  And my cock’s hard – ah, sorry – but I don’t really feel the need to do much about it.  And I can feel everything inside too – that’s why I think the rabbit’s in real estrus, I’m pretty sure what I felt earlier was the mucous plug releasing, and my uterus opening up, and I think the egg might have been released, or something close to.”

 

“Mr Hunter!”  Aurora’s voice was a plea.  “I didn’t ask for a medical report.  I asked why you had done this.”

 

Sherrinford took a breath.  “Sorry, I was trying…look, I can feel everything, right?  But…it’s like it’s not me.  It’s all separate.  It’s not affecting me, or the way I’m thinking, or anything else.  It could be happening to someone else entirely.  Do you understand that?  This estrus – it’s not taking over my entire thought process.  I’m not controlled by it.  It’s just…happening.  I can’t stop it, but I’m not ruled by it, either.”

 

“Mr Hunter, _why did you do this_?”

 

“Because that’s what I _wanted_!” shouted Sherrinford finally.  “Don’t you get it?  You said you couldn’t believe anything I said because I said it in the middle of estrus – you said I’d throw myself at any available alpha, just because that’s what my body would have wanted.  You didn’t believe me when I said I wanted _you_ , that _you’re_ the alpha I wanted.  You just used my biology to dismiss the fact that I actually might be in love with you.  Well, I’m telling you – I’m in estrus right now, and it doesn’t matter one bit, because I still want you.  I wanted you last week and the week before that and I wanted you when I took that bloody injection because I wanted to make you believe that me wanting you has _nothing_ to do with my biology and maybe this was the only way to convince you of it.”

 

Sherrinford listened to his heart pounding in his chest; the blood rushing by his ears.  He could feel himself growing slick; it was an odd, strangely uncomfortable feeling. 

 

“You stupid, stupid man,” said Aurora finally.

 

“Probably accurate,” said Sherrinford.  “Just…tell me if you’re feeling the least bit affected by my estrus.  Because I’d like to get home without being raped by random alphas, if you don’t mind.”

 

Aurora took a slow breath as she turned around and leaned back against the door.  Sherrinford studied her face, anxious for any kind of sign…but she wouldn’t look at him.  In fact, her gaze remained focused on the ceiling.  “I…my heart rate appears to be normal.  That is, I don’t feel particularly unusual.  I’m not light-headed, I have clear use of my senses and rationality.”

 

“What about scent?”

 

A moment while Aurora delicately tested the scents in the air.  “Nothing.  Well, apart from the rabbits, but nothing that would indicate an omega in heat nearby. Your pheromones appear to be offline, Mr Hunter.”

 

“Well, that’s something,” muttered Sherrinford.

 

“That’s your part of the research; it’s indication that you’ve done very well.”

 

“Oh, good, I’m glad I was able to make a contribution before you fire me for insubordination.”

 

“Theft would be more accurate.”

 

“Well, you have plenty of time to discuss the actual reason with Stanislavsky while I’m having some really boring wanks,” said Sherrinford glumly.  “I’m not even going to _enjoy_ this, you know.  And then I’m going to be fired.  The rabbits are luckier than I am.”

 

Aurora laughed softly.  “You’re…you always have so little faith in me, you know.  Always so convinced that I’ll run off to Stanislavsky to have you fired for things you can’t help.”

 

Sherrinford looked up from the rabbits.  “I…what?”

 

“You claim you have all your mental facilities intact, Mr Hunter.  I’m telling you the same thing about mine: I know exactly what it in my head and where my intentions lie.  And now I’m telling you.  You think this is as simple as me not wanting you?  I wish it were.  It would be a very simple thing to go to Stanislavsky’s office and arrange for your dismissal.  It would simplify my life a great deal not to have you in it, a constant reminder of what I can’t have and don’t deserve.  It would be such a simple thing to simply send you away, where I don’t have to talk to you every day, listen to you talk to me, try to make some kind of rational conversation when all I can see are your lips moving, and remember what they felt like when they were moving under mine.  Simple!  I wish it was simple.  But it’s not simple, is it, Mr Hunter?  It’s incredibly, desperately complicated, because it doesn’t matter how many times you say you want this from me: I can’t give it to you.”

 

Sherrinford breathed into his pounding heart.  “I don’t believe that.”

 

“I have never experienced a complete frenzy, Mr Hunter – only the presentation frenzy when I was fourteen, which was thankfully interrupted before it had a chance to really begin.”

 

“Okay,” said Sherrinford slowly.  “That doesn’t mean you’re not capable.”  He thought for a moment.  “Do…do you _want_ to experience a frenzy?  Because if you don’t…I mean, that’s all right, if you’re just not interested.”

 

Aurora laughed.  “I’m a scientist.  A research scientist – there is nothing in the world that isn’t worth knowing, or experiencing at least once, to better know it.”

 

“That’s not really an answer.”

 

“I have no desire to lose myself,” snapped Aurora.  “That’s what a frenzy is, isn’t it?  The loss of self in the face of my own body.  The inability to control or halt my actions – and worse, to do it in tandem with another individual who is equally powerless.  I would cease to be me – you would cease to be you – we’d be other people entirely.  We wouldn’t even _be_ people, we’d be…animals, mating because of something driving us.  We’d be no better than those rabbits, Mr Hunter, mating for the sake of mating, because we are slaves to our own bodies.  I have no wish to be a slave to my own biology.  Do you?”

 

Sherrinford was quiet for a moment, wondering if she’d realize what she said – and who was listening.  When Aurora didn’t move, he spoke.  “I’ve been a slave to my biology for nearly ten years.  I didn’t want to be a slave anymore.”

 

Aurora closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry, I…”

 

“This is me talking right now, Aurora,” said Sherrinford.  “It’s not my estrus.  It’s not my hormones.  It’s not anything but me.  And I’m telling you: I want you.  And you just said: everything you’re feeling isn’t a reaction to me, because I’m not emitting pheromones.  Everything you’re feeling is you.  So here’s the question, Aurora.  What do you want, from me, right now?”

 

Aurora didn’t answer.  Her eyes remained closed; her breathing remained controlled.  Sherrinford half expected her to throw the lock open again, and leave the lab with him in it.  That would be a simple enough answer, wouldn’t it?   If what Aurora craved was simplicity….

 

“How do you find this so…easy?” asked Aurora finally.  Every word sounded as if it had been tortured out of her.

 

“Because it is,” said Sherrinford. 

 

“And then what happens, when your estrus is over?  Because we can’t go back to the way we were.  I can’t have you that close to me, and not want you there always.”

 

Sherrinford swallowed.  “I was never the one pushing away.”

 

That was when she looked at him, finally, with the dark eyes and the dark hair and the pale skin.  His heart nearly exploded with the force of its beat, and he felt every rush of blood through his veins, every drop of fluid flowing in his loins, every nerve come jarringly online.

 

“Tell me how to make this easy.”

 

Time ticked slowly between them.  Sherrinford opened his mouth; it was too dry to speak. 

 

So he didn’t.  He walked, very slowly, across the room, watching Aurora watch him the entire way.  His entire body felt fluid, but his mind was clear, even if the outcome was not.  The closer he came to Aurora, the easier it was to see her: the tension in her neck and her arms, the way she was trembling so very slightly, the fear in her eyes, the press of her lips together.  When he was at last standing directly in front of her, he reached and took her hand – her skin was cold and dry, but her fingers gripped him with a strength that surprised him.

 

“I’ll make it simple.  If you want me, kiss me,” whispered Sherrinford.

 

She only hesitated for a moment, just enough time to exhale the tension from her body. When her lips touched his, it was perfect.

 


	5. Chapter Four

It was the simplest thing in the world, kissing Aurora Holmes.

 

Her lips were on his, tentative and careful and desperately warm.  Sherrinford opened easily under them, and then the kiss became more: her hands around him, in his hair, against his back.  Her body pressed against him, pushing him away from the door, until he was up against the lab table, which carved a divot into his back.  Her kisses grew hungry, as if she’d been craving him for weeks – maybe she had, he thought, and tried to keep up with giving everything she needed to take.

 

His entire body was quivering, trying to respond to her need, trying to fight his hesitance.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want _her_ – it was that he wanted her almost too _much_.  His body wanted to be naked, now, immediately.  His hands wanted to work their way under her clothes, push the lab coat from her shoulders, take her hair out of that ridiculous bun.  His legs wanted to spread wide, seated on the table – would it be too high?  Let her enter him, let her touch him, _God_ he wanted her in him…how to make that happen, maybe he should turn around and present himself, that would make his desires absolutely clear, but he wanted to see her face….

 

His body might have had a mind of its own, but _his_ mind, it was gloriously still working, still a detached partner, observing and cataloguing and trying desperately to control his body, to pull it back into line.  To take things slowly and carefully, to not scare Aurora away.

 

The idea of scaring an alpha…but Aurora wasn’t any alpha.  Aurora was…could be… _his_.

 

“Stop thinking,” said Aurora into the kiss.

 

“What?”

 

Aurora went still.  “I…I can’t stop thinking.  My mind keeps spinning and spinning around in circles.”

 

“I….”  And then he laughed into her neck, before kissing the taut skin there.  “I thought you were telling _me_ to—“

 

“No!”  Her head rolled to the side, giving him better access. 

 

“You could have.  I keep trying to analyze my body’s responses.”

 

“We are both very well trained scientists,” said Aurora, breathy and still prim at the same time, and Sherrinford listened to his body, and nipped the line of her tendon, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.  He ran his hands under Aurora’s lab coat, along her waistline, one finger hooking under the waistband of her skirt.  Her breath quickened, hot against his hair.

 

He pulled back, just enough, and looked at her.  “I…I don’t think I will be able to stop.  If I start listening to what my body wants to do to you.  If I think about it, I’ll be a step ahead.  I could…I might be able to keep control.  Stay coherent.  Isn’t that what you want?  One of us to be coherent?”

 

Aurora swallowed.  “I don’t know.”

 

“Then I’ll keep thinking, until you do,” said Sherrinford, and reached up to kiss her again, letting his tongue work inside her mouth, slow slides against her own tongue, along her teeth.  It was torture to keep his hands still, pressed against her side, when all he wanted to do was to run them up and down her skin, feel the goosebumps and the quivers that were surely present as her frenzy slowly took over her body. 

 

Kissing Aurora made up for it.  His heart pounded; his entire body was pleasantly warm, his blood singing in his veins for all that he could still feel the itch under his skin – lessened now with Aurora next to him.  He felt vaguely like he ought to have been uncomfortable with the clothes still rubbing against him, but mostly he was able to concentrate on the steady beating of his heart; the warmth of Aurora under his palms, the taste of her mouth, the soft sounds she made in the back of her throat. Her hands worked their way into the lapels of his lab coat, pulled him tight against her.

 

The pressure, growing, that he felt against his lower belly.  Not from within, but without: Aurora, growing more and more aroused.  His heart pounded harder with the realization, and his legs parted of their own volition.

 

Aurora’s hands slid from his lapels, pressed against his chest, palms open. They ran down his shirt to his buckle, pushing and shaking.  Aurora’s whimpers became heated, frantic.

 

And then she went still, pulling her hands away as if she’d suddenly woken from a nightmare.

 

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and pressed his forehead to hers.  “Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly, and heard Aurora’s deep whine in response, her shaky breaths.  “I’m still here.  Still me.  Shhh.”

 

Aurora almost sobbed, and slowly reached back to rest her fingertips on his waist again.  “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…they were just there, I couldn’t stop them—”

 

“It’s okay.”  Sherrinford waited for her breaths to even out.  “Are you all right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’m still here.  I still want this.  You’re not going anywhere I’m afraid to follow.”

 

Aurora laughed, and leaned against him.  “Can…can I…?”

 

Sherrinford took her hands in his, and guided them to his belt buckle.  He helped her unbuckle it, then the rest of the fastenings until his trousers were loose around his hips.  His boxer briefs were damp and desperately uncomfortable, and he let Aurora push his clothes the rest of the way down, past his thighs, where they fell to the floor on their own. 

 

He was kissing Aurora’s forehead when they fell, or he would have seen Aurora’s face.  As it was, he could tell she had gone still again, and he pressed kisses to her temple and eyebrows, waiting for her to speak.

 

“Oh,” she said finally.  “I….”

 

“Didn’t think I had one?”

 

“I do know biology.  I never understood why male omegas have one in the first place.  Rather useless bit of anatomy, really.”

 

“I’ll be sure to bring it up with the relevant authorities when I meet them,” said Sherrinford dryly.

 

She looked up finally; not a bit of embarrassment in her gaze.  “Don’t take it personally.  My own anatomy is only vaguely more illogical.”

 

“But compatible.”

 

She smiled, just a bit, and Sherrinford’s heart jumped in his chest.  “Yes.”

 

“Good.”  He leaned in and kissed her again, this time rolling the fingers under the waistband of her skirt and pants both, back and forth, as if he were readying himself to push them down. Not yet, he thought, but her breath quickened with the movement, and her kisses became more urgent.  Excitement, eagerness…fear, maybe.  But she didn’t push him away – in fact, she leaned into him, rested her hands on his shirt…and then slid down to the bare skin at his waist.

 

The touch was all it took for almost every system he had to go offline.  There was a rush of warmth to his loins; he could feel the trickle down his legs, which nearly gave way in their effort to spread, as if they’d forgotten they were meant to be holding him upright just then.  Sherrinford lost all rational thought for a moment, and it was only the cry in the back of his throat that brought him back around to himself, the searing heat from Aurora’s palms still on his hips.

  
“Sherrinford!  Sherrinford?”  Aurora sounded worried, almost frantic.

 

“Christ,” he muttered, trying desperately to control his breathing – his rapidly pounding heart was a lost cause.  “Sorry, I…I’m here.  It’s me.  I’m here.”

 

“I should stop touching you.”

 

“No!” he said, and put his hand on her wrist to stop her.  “Please…just…”  She doubled in his vision as his eyes crossed and righted themselves again, and the effect was so dizzying that it was easier to close them and kiss her again.  She was hesitant, tentative, and then the kiss slid into what was fast becoming comfortable.

 

All too soon, her fingers were gripping him, digging into his skin, trying to pull him closer; the whimpers in the back of her throat became heated and urgent and deep.  She was shaking in his arms, she was pushing up against him with her hips.  She was losing herself to him, he could tell in the frantic motions of her tongue and her mouth, and something very deep in him was as pleased as his mind was a little horrified by it.

 

He didn’t want a mindless alpha deep in a frenzy to take him.  He wanted _Aurora_.

 

“Aurora….”

 

“Please,” whispered Aurora.  “I…I can’t hold on….”

 

He didn’t hesitate; he fumbled at her waistband for a moment before giving up altogether and instead raked her skirt up to rest around her waist.  He shoved at her hose, heard the soft _whhhhsk_ of the thin fabric ripping as he pushed it down.

 

He couldn’t see, not past the fabric that still lay between them; not with Aurora kissing him harder, barely letting go of him enough to give him the access to her clothing at all.  But it didn’t seem to matter, because somehow he was sitting on the table, balanced precariously on the lower quarter of his spine, completely exposed, cold in the sudden rush of air on the wet skin between his legs….

 

And then she pushed at his hole, and even though it was already wet and loose, he could still feel the stretch of something thick and hot and smooth slide inside him.  His entire body seemed to shudder with the sensation; even his mind went a little fuzzy, and he closed his eyes almost involuntarily before forcing them back open again.  Aurora inside him didn’t feel terribly long, but long enough to touch his prostate, and he broke the kiss to let out a cry as the short expanse ended in the still unformed knot that breached him and wedged itself immediately inside.

 

They went still together, locked tightly at their hips, breathing the same air.  Aurora’s eyes were a bit glassy, unfocused, and Sherrinford had more trouble than he’d imagined keeping himself in the moment. 

 

 _Stay. Here,_ he told himself firmly.  _Don’t disappear into the fog of estrus – she’s counting on you to keep your wits!_

 

Her movements were so slight, Sherrinford wasn’t altogether sure he hadn’t imagined them at first.  They increased, the tight thrusts up and into him, her breath coming in sharp gasps.  Thrusting wasn’t quite the right word – it was more of a rocking motion, her hips undulating against him, rolling and dipping and pushing into him.  He watched her face, fascinated at the strange way her mouth twisted around her gasps.  Her eyes fluttered open and closed, unfocused, her cheeks were pink with exertion.  Her hair fell in ringlets around her face.  For a moment, he wondered if he’d lost her entirely to her rutting.

 

And then her eyes flew open, and stared at him, her entire body shaking with effort as she held herself as deeply in him as she could manage. 

 

“I…it’s happening,” she whispered, high and almost afraid.  He bent to kiss her beside the mouth, even as he could feel the pressure on his inner walls – her knot expanding, pressing out on his inner walls, forming the tight connection that would bind them together.  She couldn’t stop moving, even as it expanded, though it became more difficult, the friction almost too much to bear.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered to her, surprised how small his voice sounded, the note of pain that he didn’t quite feel under the calming words.  He kissed her, and hoped she hadn’t heard it. 

 

She cried out into his mouth as she came – and Sherrinford could feel it, the hot come rushing into him, furious tickling waves, and he let out a gasp.  She came so hard, so fast, so _much_ , it nearly hurt, while at the same time it felt amazingly warm and wet and wonderful and exactly what he’d been wanting.  He sank onto her, buried his face into her hair, wrapped himself around her, and breathed into it.

 

Her cheek rested on his shoulder; her arms were loosely around him.  Sherrinford sighed, comfortable, content, and he was almost glad that she was a bit out of herself.  It was easier, somehow, to be alone in his own lucidity.  To pretend that this was something lasting.  To pretend that this wasn’t some horrific mistake that they’d surely regret when the estrus – fake or not – began to fade. 

 

To pretend that she really didn’t mean to turn him in for his transgressions. 

 

She was nuzzling against him now, her mouth at the base of his throat.  He moved his head to the side, comfortable and a bit sleepy.  The table was cold and slippery now with fluid.  And hard – Sherrinford’s hips were beginning to protest.  But Aurora’s mouth was on his neck, her breath warm and wet, and her teeth scraping along his skin.

 

 _Oh, God_.

 

It was only when she stilled that he realized he’d said it out loud.

 

“Sorry,” she said, and pulled her mouth away.

 

“No, I….” 

 

They stared at each other, still locked together, and Aurora shuddered as another wave of ejaculate pumped into him. 

 

“Just…”  Sherrinford swallowed.  “You said your life would be simpler without me.”

 

“It would,” whispered Aurora.  “It so very much would.”

 

“Because I’m an omega.  Because you’d lose yourself to a frenzy every four months.”

 

“No,” said Aurora, shaking her head.  “I decided it wasn’t worth wanting anyone in my life when I was fifteen years old.  And then you walked in those doors and now I can’t imagine life without you, and all I ever wanted was the work, and now all I want is work and you….”

 

Her voice broke as her body shuddered again.

 

“It’s not simple.  It’s not a _bit_ simple.”

 

“I won’t stay at home.  I have to be useful.”

 

“I don’t want you to stay at home.”

 

“I can’t just pop out kids and make dinner and plant a garden….”

 

Aurora laugh seemed to echo into his skin.  “We’ll hire a gardener.  And a cook.  And a nanny.”

 

“With what money?”

 

And Aurora laughed even harder as she began to nuzzle his neck.  “Say yes.  Say yes.”

 

“Simple’s overrated,” said Sherrinford, and when Aurora hesitated, he breathed it out.  “Yes.  Yes.  For God’s sake, Aurora, _yeeesssss_.”

 

His words ended in a hiss as she bit down; he lost every rational bit in his brain as his orgasm washed over him, over Aurora, lost in the pleasurable fog of love and joy and relief.

 

*

They couldn’t leave the rabbits.  They left the door locked, and answered the phone as carefully as they could manage, ate the energy bars that Aurora kept stored in her desk drawer, and in between bouts of sex and love and rest, took notes on the various mating pairs for later analysis. 

 

Themselves included, of course.  The previously unmated rabbits seemed none the worse for wear – at least, none had dropped dead, and Sherrinford was determined to see that as a plus.  Aurora still insisted on taking his temperature, blood pressure, and every other vital she could think of at every given opportunity.   Sherrinford almost suspected she had something of a doctor kink, the way she examined him, claiming certain things were absolutely necessary to test.  Such as responsiveness when she pressed or kissed or licked in certain areas. 

 

He didn’t mind very much, though.

 

It was sometime during the third day – time had become quite fluid, when there were no windows to indicate day or night – that they whispered the conversation neither had much wanted to have.

 

“What do we tell Stanislavsky?”

 

Once voiced, neither wanted to speak.  Wrapped in each other’s arms, even as they lay on a strange assortment of blankets, lab coats, and padded flooring under the lab table, it was easy to pretend the rest of the work world didn’t exist. 

 

“Stanislavsky already thinks you’re a bonded omega,” said Aurora finally.  “We’d hardly be telling him something he doesn’t know.  Or believe.”

 

“He thinks my alpha works somewhere else,” Sherrinford reminded her. 

 

“No one bothered me about my bonding status when I started working here.”

 

“You’re an alpha.  It’s different.  No one expects you to stay at home and raise the kids.”

 

“No one expects it of you, either.”

 

Sherrinford snorted.  “Every time I’ve been out on estrus leave, Stanislavsky made a point of passing me in the hall twice a day for a week after I returned, looking at my stomach every time.  As if I didn’t know what he was looking to hear from me.”

 

Aurora made a disapproving squeak.  “You never said!”

 

“It didn’t really matter, since I knew I wasn’t breeding.”

 

Aurora was quiet.  “You could be.”

 

“Maybe,” said Sherrinford, hoping he sounded brave about it.  “Depends on if this was a real heat or just a false one.”

 

“It’s been three days.”

 

“It’s wearing off.  Usually my estrus lasts for five.”

 

“The rabbits had unusually short estruses as well,” mused Aurora.

 

“See, then?  False.”

 

“We can’t assume it was false.  That’s sloppy work.  It is entirely possible that the ovum were in full operation and released at least one egg to be fertilized.   Tomorrow, when we’ve slept and eaten properly, we’ll examine the omegas to determine false or actual estrus.”

 

Sherrinford nodded, and hoped the examination wasn’t going to involve an autopsy.

 

Aurora bit her lip, thinking.  “We won’t tell him.”

 

“Aurora….”

 

“He’s an idiot.  He would never let you work in the lab if you were pregnant.  And he’d never let you work in _my_ lab if he knew we were bonded.  I won’t lose you as an assistant a minute before it becomes absolutely necessary.  Therefore we won’t say anything to him until we know we have no other choice.”

 

Sherrinford tightened his arms around her, and buried his face into her neck.

 

“So if I’m pregnant…”

 

“We’ll arrange for him to take a year-long sabbatical.”

 

Sherrinford laughed.  “Aurora, you can’t do that!”

 

“Of course I can,” said Aurora haughtily.  “If he’s not here, he can’t notice you are pregnant.  And if he’s gone a full year, it gives you a few months to recuperate before you’d need to return to work.  I understand some omegas like that,” she added, a bit cautiously.  “Of course, you could return whenever you liked.  The week following the birth, if that’s what you want.”

 

Sherrinford kept laughing.  “I love you.”

 

Aurora didn’t answer, but Sherrinford didn’t mind, especially when she pressed her lips to his still-healing bondbite, and they moved together one last time before the heat, false or not, faded into memory.

 

*

 

Sherrinford wasn’t sure what he expected, when the door to the lab was finally unlocked.  He hadn’t quite expected the complete indifference he found on the other side.  It appeared that no one had even really noticed that the door had been locked at all, and Sherrinford wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or disappointed that his former friends had shown so little interest in their disappearance.

 

“Come along, then,” said Aurora briskly, as she locked the door again, this time with them on the other side of it.  “I could do with a shower; I’m sure you could do with something more substantive to eat.”

 

“Where….?”  Sherrinford’s stomach rumbled, and he rested his hand on it, suddenly aware of how hungry he really was.  The significance of the gesture dawned on him a moment later, and he snatched his hand away quickly, hoping Aurora hadn’t noticed.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat an actual meal.”

 

“Of course I eat.  I’m hardly an automaton.”

 

“No, only…I suppose we could go to mine.”

 

Aurora glanced at him as she began walking to the lifts.  “Of course we’re going to yours, where else would we go?”

 

“Yours.  Unless you really do live here at the lab.”

 

“We have already had this discussion, Sherrinford.  There is no need to rehash the topic.  We’ll live at yours until circumstances dictate otherwise.”  She jabbed at the button for the lift and glared at the doors impatiently.

 

Sherrinford tried not to laugh at her.  During a heat was one thing – he had the idea she did not much care to be the object of amusement outside of them.  “When did we have this discussion?”

 

“I don’t know, sometime in the last twenty-four hours.”

 

“I was _asleep_ for most of the last twenty-four hours.”

 

“It was a very easy conversation.”

 

“Understandable, if I was _asleep_.  Tell me how it ended?”

 

“I told you: we decided to live in your flat, as it’s much more convenient to work.”

 

Sherrinford raised an eyebrow.  “It’s forty-five minutes on the Tube and one transfer.”

 

“Exactly,” said Aurora, as if this proved anything, and Sherrinford threw his hands in the air and followed her into the lift and out into their new life together.

 

If Sherrinford had any concerns about Aurora’s personality changing on account of their new bond, they were promptly dashed over the course of the next few weeks.  She was prickly and aloof as ever, funny and infuriating in the same instant.  She presumed, assumed, demanded, expected, and seemed not to realize when she was doing anything particularly aggravating – but in the nighttime, she locked up the laboratory and went home with Sherrinford as if there was nothing else she’d want to do.  She sat with him at dinner, though she never ate very much, and when the lights went out, wrapped her arms around him and settled in beside him on the bed, her breathing evening out and becoming soft.  Sherrinford had never felt so safe in his life as he did then, in the final moments before sleep took him.

 

It was the rabbits that surprised him the most.  “I thought you’d kill them,” he said, watching as Aurora finished her examination of the first, previously unbonded omega bunny.  “You know, to see if they were in estrus after all.”

 

“Of course not,” said Aurora briskly.  “What a foolhardy concept, when we’ve already put four months of study into them.  We must keep an eye on the long-term outcome of the medication, Sherrinford, and it would be a shame to put that study back four months simply to discover something we’ll learn in a few weeks anyway.” 

 

She glanced at Sherrinford so quickly that he might have missed it if he’d blinked.  He knew that glance; he’d seen it a few times in the last few weeks already, and he tried to keep his hands on the table instead of instinctively going toward his stomach.  It took a great deal of effort.

 

“I could have kept taking it, you know,” he said mildly. 

 

“No,” said Aurora sharply.  “You’re bonded now.  We know it won’t have any effect on you.  The bonded rabbits went into heat immediately with their alphas nearby, rendering it quite useless in bonded situations.  As I have no plans to go anywhere without you, there is no point to you continuing to take the medication.”

 

“I meant…shouldn’t bonded omegas also have the chance to live freely?  To be able to determine when they experience estrus, even if they’ve already decided with whom?”

 

Aurora reached for the next omega rabbit.  “I quite agree.  But that is why there are rabbits, so that we can continue to develop the proper medication for such a circumstance, instead of using you as a test subject.”

 

“Aurora….”

 

“No,” said Aurora firmly, and Sherrinford caught the determination in her eyes, and let it drop.

 

*

 

Three weeks later, they knew: the previously bonded rabbits were pregnant.

 

The previously unbonded rabbits were not.


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Kizzia and EGT for their beta/Brit-pick. They are both lovely and dedicated and I don’t know what I’d do without them. 
> 
> Please note that I have also posted what is arguably the shortest epilogue known to man. Feel free to take a few moments before reading it. (I think Kizzia still hasn’t forgiven me for how this chapter ends.)
> 
> And if you’re attending GridlockDC this weekend, I greatly look forward to seeing you and receiving any abuse you feel I deserve for writing this.

The weeks went by, and they settled into a feeling of normality.  Sherrinford always woke first, and would go to shower, dress, and start breakfast: toast and eggs and tea.  By the time it was prepared, Aurora would be up and ready to ignore nearly all of it.  They would eat, Sherrinford would read the morning papers and pack a lunch while Aurora showered and dressed, and then they would set off, shortly after seven, to work.

 

They arrived long before anyone else, so no one saw them come in together.  When they left, shortly after six in the evening, most everyone else was already gone, so no one saw them leave.  Had Sherrinford not already known of Aurora’s preference for long hours, he might have assumed she was trying to keep their bond a secret.  As it was, she didn’t seem particularly concerned that they arrived and left together; in fact, it seemed more in defiance of expectations than anything else, as if she dared someone to notice and comment.

 

Sherrinford thought she was disappointed that no one did.

 

They’d arrive home, some twelve hours after they left, eat dinner; Aurora would read and Sherrinford would do the cross-word, and then they’d fall in bed, sometimes to simply sleep, sometimes to learn another way to make love. 

 

It was, despite Aurora’s earliest misgivings, very simple.  Sherrinford thought it would be very pleasant to live out the rest of their lives like this.  He didn’t think he’d mind terribly much; he was certain Aurora would prefer it.

 

It all came to a halt six weeks after it began, when Sherrinford was uncorking the newest jug of vinegar solution for the medication, and was promptly sick in the sink on the side of the laboratory.

 

Aurora had been working on her notes across the lab, but she was at his side in an instant, her hand on his back, her voice at his ear with a soothing _shhhh_.  Her nose at the nape of his neck.  Her hot breath on his skin, her teeth gently scraping as she scented him.

 

Sherrinford’s heart pounded, and his stomach rolled unpleasantly.  His head swam and his mouth tasted sour and sweet.

 

“Aurora….”

 

“Oh,” was all Aurora could manage, and she rested her hand on his, and pulled it to his stomach, where she pressed his palm under hers to him.

 

As if… _oh_.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Sherrinford had trouble thinking for a moment, with their hands pressed to him, and Aurora at his back, continuing to scent him.  “The…the rabbits.”

 

“ _You_ aren’t a rabbit.”

 

As if he needed reminding, and Sherrinford began to giggle.  “I…thought…since the rabbits….”

 

“I’ll start feeding you more carrots,” promised Aurora, and Sherrinford turned, wanting to see her face, to see if she was happy, if she was pleased, if she was as suddenly full to overflowing with emotions as he was. 

 

Wanting to press his nose into the hollow at the base of her throat, to do his own scenting. 

 

She _did_ look happy, he thought.  Her eyes were bright and shining, and he nuzzled into her, suddenly anxious to keep his hands around her, to let her keep her hands on him.  All at once, he felt the enormous weight of whatever was growing inside of him, the tiny spark of fear that he somehow wouldn’t be able to live up to its expectations, that neither of them would live up to Aurora’s expectations – anything he could do to tie her to them both….

 

“You’re thinking again,” chided Aurora.  “Stop it.”

 

“Can’t help it,” said Sherrinford, and pressed his face into her neck.  “I—“

 

The door to the laboratory opened, startling them both.  “Dr Holmes, I— _what is the meaning of this!_ ”

 

At the sound of Mikhail Stanislavsky’s voice, Sherrinford immediately stiffened and tried to pull away.  But Aurora’s arms tightened, less from fear than possession, and Sherrinford struggled for a moment before finally giving in.

 

“You’re a research scientist, Mikhail; do a bit of observation once in a while,” said Aurora coolly.  “I’m scenting my omega.  I’m sure you’re aware of the practice.”

 

Sherrinford couldn’t see Stanislavsky, but he could hear the man splutter, and he had a very clear image in his head what that might look like.  “ _Your_ omega?  He’s _bonded_ , Dr Holmes, and not to you _._ ”

 

“He _is_ bonded, and very _much_ to me.  At any rate, I hardly see how it matters _who_ his alpha is; you hired a bonded omega to be my assistant, and here you have a bonded omega as my assistant.  It’s a little late to complain about the particulars now.”

 

“This is _completely_ inappropriate!  You can’t work together, you’re….he’s….”

 

“Oh, _do_ continue.  I can’t wait to hear your objections, particularly since I have none.”

 

“A false application, for one – wouldn’t you say, _Mr Holmes_?”

 

Sherrinford held his breath.  He looked up through his eyelashes, trying to see Aurora’s face.  They hadn’t talked about the practice of the omega partner taking the alpha partner’s name – he’d always assumed that he’d go unbonded his entire life, and therefore remain Sherrinford Hunter.

 

But Sherrinford _Holmes_ did have a rather nice ring to it.  Then again – it would make their bonding absolutely undeniable.

 

“An extremely good point, thank you, Mikhail,” said Aurora finally.  She looked down at Sherrinford.  “Mr Hunter – I’m sorry, Mr _Holmes_ , you’re fired.”  She looked up at Stanislavsky.  “I find myself in need of an assistant, Mikhail.  Preferably one with extensive experience with genetic manipulation in regards to omega reproductive biology.  I wonder where I could find a suitable candidate.”

 

And then she extended a finger and poked Sherrinford sharply in the ribcage, eliciting a squeak from him.

 

“Oh!  Sherrinford, darling?  Did you wish to apply for the position?  How perfect.  Mikhail, I have a highly qualified applicant here named Sherrinford Holmes.  You’ll find his paperwork quite in order – in fact, I believe your human resources department is well acquainted with him and hiring him on will be the work of a moment.  In fact, it may already be done, apart from a few minor details regarding his name, which we shall correct within the week, seeing as we have some legal paperwork to complete regarding that detail beforehand.  If you don’t object, of course,” she added, looking down at Sherrinford.  “You could retain the name Hunter if you would like.  It might be wise, professionally speaking, though certainly rather unusual from society’s standpoint – not that I’ve ever given a fig for what society dictates.”

 

“No,” said Sherrinford, feeling a bit dizzy.  “Holmes is all right.”

 

“Excellent.  Mikhail, thank you for your attention to this issue.  I believe it has now been resolved satisfactorily.”

 

“It most certainly has not—“

 

Aurora sighed.  “Oh, out with it already.”

 

“If you’re scenting him, it can only mean one thing, and it’s that he’s—“

 

“How is your mate, Mikhail?” Aurora interrupted him.  “She’s six months along, isn’t she?  I’ve been thinking I should ask your advice on how often you scent her now – twice a week?  Oh, no, my mistake.  You scent your wife only once a week – the other weekly scenting is your mistress.  His pregnancy is very recent – only a month since his heat, wasn’t it?  How terribly fascinating.  I wasn’t aware that one could sustain two bonds simultaneously.”

 

Sherrinford sneaked a peek of Stanislavsky, just in time to see the man turn bright cherry red, before turning on his heels and leaving the lab with a slam of the door.

 

“Well,” said Aurora as soon as he’d left, and she slumped against Sherrinford.  “Perhaps the year-long sabbatical won’t be necessary after all.  Well, not because of us, anyway.”

 

“How can he maintain two bonds?”

 

“I don’t think he has, really,” said Aurora thoughtfully.  “I suspect he’s using his mate’s pregnancy to hide the broken bond when he and his mistress did the deed.  She’d assume it’s not a broken bond but the pregnancy interfering with it.  He’ll merely have to re-establish after his mistress bears the child, and she’d never be the wiser.”

 

“Bad luck for him.”

 

“But very good luck for us,” said Aurora, and she pressed her forehead to Sherrinford’s.  “I…is it all right?  Hunter to Holmes, I mean.”

 

Sherrinford laughed softly.  “You never said it’s what you wanted.”

 

“You never said _this_ was what you wanted,” Aurora reminded him, and ran her thumbs over his waist.

 

He looked up at her.  “Do you?”

 

She was quiet for a moment.  “We’ll never fit three people in your flat.  And I’ve never thought the city was a good place to raise a child.  I can hold Stanislavsky off for the next nine months, but I’m not sure you’d want to live or work with his animosity forever.”

 

Sherrinford took a breath.  “Then…this is it, isn’t it?  The end of my career before I even get started.”

 

“No,” said Aurora quickly.  “That’s not what I mean.”

 

“Spell it out for me, then.”

 

Aurora bit her lip. “I…I have a house.”

 

Sherrinford’s eyes widened.  “A house.  You have a house, and we’re living in a tiny flat in south London?”

 

“It’s more convenient!”

 

“It’s got rusty pipes and unreliable heat, Aurora.”

 

Aurora sighed.  “My house is in Sussex.”

 

Sherrinford blinked.  “That’s…a rather long commute.”

 

“I did tell you the flat was more convenient.”

 

“It explains why you never went home before.”

 

“It also has a fully equipped and well-ventilated laboratory, with all of the most modern equipment possible.”  She paused.  “Well.  It _will_ do, anyway.  Once I order them.”

 

Sherrinford pressed his lips together.  “I’d ask with what money, but I think you’re going to tell me.”

 

“I don’t like discussing money.”

 

“Hmm.  Humor me.”

 

Aurora leaned in until he couldn’t see her face anymore.  “I’m a little bit rich.”

 

“A house in Sussex, fully equipped laboratory, no fear of Stanislavsky, and I seem to recall a conversation about hiring a gardener, a cook, and a nanny.”

 

“I never lied.”

 

“Omission.”

 

“All right, I wasn’t quite _truthful_.”

 

Sherrinford rested his head on Aurora’s shoulder.  “You haven’t said it, you know.”

 

Aurora rested her chin on his head, and started stroking his back.  “Said what?”

 

“If this is what you want.  If I’m what you want.”

 

“You have any doubt?”

 

“I’d like to hear it.  Just to be sure that I’m not imagining it.”

 

Aurora pressed her lips to his hair.  “I want you, Sherrinford Hunter Holmes, to be my mate, and I want to claim the child growing inside you as mine, and I want you to work alongside me as long as you can stand to do it with Stanislavsky looking over our shoulders, and when you can’t stand it, we’ll toss him aside and outfit a laboratory in our house in Sussex and we’ll keep doing whatever it is we want to do there, and raise our baby to be intelligent and wonderful and strong, until he’s old enough to work with us too.”

 

“He might not want to be a chemist, you know,” said Sherrinford, heart full to bursting, light as a feather with joy.  “Perhaps he’ll be a poet, or a teacher, or a politician.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffed Aurora.

 

*

 

In the end, Sherrinford lasted six more months before he decided he couldn’t stand another moment of working at Abotech. 

 

The problem was telling Aurora.  The project was nearly completed and ready to go into clinical trials, which would be conducted by another department altogether, though both Aurora and Sherrinford would of course act as advisors.  And Sherrinford could see how happy Aurora was, going in every day together, returning to the little flat at night, working alongside him and with their goal in sight.  She whistled, sometimes, and every so often, when she didn’t think he could see her, she smiled so brightly, with her eyes shining, that he would have to catch his breath and wait for his heart to stop pounding so fiercely before he could move.

 

The baby would kick him, as if to remind him that really he needed to finish recording his observations of the petri dishes before going to kiss her.

 

He remembered what Aurora was like before they were together.  Hard as nails and twice as sharp, and how nervous he’d been around her.  Well, he was still nervous, but for entirely different reasons.  Now, he could only delay the inevitable.  A year before, he wanted nothing more than to bring it on, full speed ahead.

 

They were on the Tube when she surprised him.  “You want to give your notice.”

 

They were sitting next to each other; Sherrinford never had to stand on the shaking train anymore – that was one advantage to being pregnant, people automatically gave up their seats for him, and Aurora was very good at staring pointedly until she was able to sit next to him as well.  He glanced at her, but she was looking straight ahead. 

 

“It’s all right,” she said, reassuringly.  “We did discuss this.”

 

“And where was I?  The loo?”

 

“I’ll order the supplies for the laboratory in Sussex in the morning,” continued Aurora.  “If…that’s still what you want, of course.”

 

“Maybe not right away,” admitted Sherrinford, rubbing his baby bump absently.  “But yes.  Anyway, I won’t give notice until the project’s complete.  I know the next few weeks are going to be very busy.”

 

Aurora looked relieved.  “Thank you.  I…I don’t want to do without you in the laboratory.”

 

“You won’t,” he promised, and took her hand in his.  “Like I’d let you alone anyway, you’d forget to turn off the Bunsen burners and the whole place would go up in flames.”

 

It took another month before the project was done, and Sherrinford waddled behind Aurora to Stanislavsky’s office, carrying his letter of resignation.  He could see the faces of the other assistants and scientists peering from behind the doorways, curious about him, about his condition, about his bonding to Aurora…and he did his best to ignore them.  It wasn’t easy, especially since he’d at one point thought of most of them as friends.

 

Aurora set the final report down on Stanislavsky’s desk.  “It’s finished,” she said briskly.  “I’ve already arranged for the clinical trials team to receive all the relevant papers and dosages.  They’ll conduct their review and I believe they plan to begin trials in three weeks’ time.”

 

“Excellent,” said Stanislavsky, pointedly not looking at Sherrinford.  He reached for the report greedily.  “I trust you’ll be there, to oversee?”

 

“To a limited extent.  As you know, I expect certain family obligations to interfere in another month’s time.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“Speaking of which,” said Sherrinford, and he stepped forward to lay his resignation down on the desk.

 

Stanislavsky didn’t move for a moment.  He peered at the paper, and the glanced up at Sherrinford.  “We had such high hopes for you, Mr Holmes.  We could, of course, have made allowances for your…condition.”

 

“I still have plans,” said Sherrinford.  “Just…not here.  I…I do hope you won’t hold my actions against any other promising omega scientists, sir.”

 

Stanislavsky looked at Sherrinford directly, for perhaps the first time in months.  “Thank you, Mr Holmes.  And good luck with your future endeavors.”

 

Sherrinford pressed his lips together and stared straight ahead, blinking hard.  Maybe someday the world would change; let an omega become something useful.  A doctor instead of a nurse, a lawyer instead of a secretary. 

 

Someday.  Sherrinford rested his hand on the baby in his belly, and tried to push the regret away.

 

Aurora laid a second piece of paper on the desk.

 

Stanislavsky glanced at it, and then did a double take.  “Dr Holmes?”

 

“I’m going too,” she said quickly, as if she were afraid she might say something else entirely if she didn’t say the words as quickly as she dared.

 

“I…I don’t understand.  The trials—“

 

“I’ll stay for the trials,” Aurora clarified.  “That is, I will finish my current projects – there are only half a dozen, it shan’t take more than a few months’ time – and I won’t take on any new ones.  I’ll serve as consultant to the trials until their completion, and I’m happy to do any additional work that the trials demand – but from my own laboratory in Sussex.  I won’t have my child brought up in London air, Mikhail, and I refuse to spend any time apart from my family.  And I say this without any double meaning – you’re a family man, Mikhail, I’m sure you understand my position.”

 

Sherrinford stared at the paper on the desk, and then at Aurora, completely oblivious of whether Stanislavsky was sputtering or not.  In fact, Sherrinford couldn’t have cared less about his former employer in that moment, or if Aurora was in fact trying to manipulate him into doing exactly as she wanted.  All he wanted to know was when Aurora had decided to also quit, and if it really was for the reasons she claimed.

 

“I understand,” said Mikhail, so gently and carefully that afterwards, Sherrinford decided he really hadn’t been manipulated – or at least didn’t feel as though he had.  “In that case, let me extend my good wishes to you both.”

 

“But what will you _do_?” blurted out Sherrinford, unable to hold it in any longer, and Aurora turned to give him a withering look.

 

“Oh, Sherrinford.  Don’t be tedious.  The clinical trials will go on for years, at least, there’s bound to be problems with them.  That will take up a great deal of our time.  And it’s not as if I don’t have half a dozen other labs clamoring for my expertise on one problem or another – we’ll take the experiments that interest us and leave the rest.  No more completely ridiculous assignments where we have to determine the cell structure of unknown objects.”

 

Now Stanislavsky began to sputter.  “They were _hardly_ completely ridiculous, Dr Holmes—“

 

Sherrinford remembered his first assignment at Abotech.  “You told me those were important!  Building blocks, you said!”

 

Aurora waved the accusations away.  “It gave you reason enough to finish them, didn’t it?  There’s a lab in Devon trying to clone a sheep.  I’m quite fascinated.  Imagine if they manage it – perhaps the next step is cloning people.”

 

“A world with two Aurora Holmeses,” said Stanislavsky, and shuddered.

 

“Marvelous, isn’t it?” said Aurora.  “Come along, Sherrinford.  Sussex is waiting.”

 

*

 

Mycroft Charles Holmes was born in Sussex; an easy birth by all accounts that did not include Aurora’s opinion, which was that the labor process was long, difficult, messy, and entirely overblown in importance considering the terribly small but precious outcome.

 

“Too much fuss,” said Aurora, sitting next to Sherrinford on the bed, as Mycroft nursed and guzzled at Sherrinford’s chest.  “It completely outweighs the child who came of it.  I fail to see why he had to make such a production.”

 

Sherrinford smiled as he glanced up at Aurora.  The nurses glared at her, but said nothing.  They heard the petulance, but Sherrinford also heard the notes of worry underneath.

 

“No harm done,” he said.  “He really is a sturdy little fellow.”

 

“Emphasis on little.”

 

“He’ll grow.”

 

“I’m quite sure.”  Aurora picked at the blanket.  “The trials start next week.”

 

The baby’s head was covered in red fuzz; Sherrinford stroked the hair thoughtfully.  “You’ll go, of course.”

 

“Yes.”  Aurora paused.  “You’ll come with me.”

 

“Aurora, I just had a baby.”

 

“I won’t go without you.  And he’s very portable.  At least, that’s what I’m told.  We must start his scientific education early, Sherrinford, if we’re to make a proper chemist out of him.”

 

Sherrinford chuckled.  “I think he’d rather spend a few years as a baby first.”

 

Aurora didn’t laugh.  “If you’d rather stay here, of course that would be perfectly all right.  I could somehow manage without you.”

 

“No, you couldn’t,” said Sherrinford, amused.  He leaned over and kissed Aurora’s cheek.  “Of course I’ll come.  With Mike.  We wouldn’t miss it.”

 

“ _Mycroft_ , Sherrinford.  We gave him the name, we should struggle our way to the end of it.”

 

“Ridiculous woman,” said Sherrinford fondly, and kissed her again.

 

*

 

The years passed, and they passed well.

 

Mycroft grew sturdy and strong and clever.  He was talking by the age of one, full sentences with a startlingly large vocabulary by the age of three.   He was reading textbooks by the age of five, and when he was six, his favorite toy was a child’s sized umbrella, which he carried everywhere in hopes that it would rain so that he could unfurl it and use it as he splashed around in the puddles that surrounded the Sussex estate.

 

To Sherrinford, he seemed terribly lonely and bored.  To Aurora, he seemed far too interested in social politics and manipulation.

 

“He needs school, and friends,” said Sherrinford.

 

“He needs a good experiment to capture his imagination,” said Aurora.

 

Neither of them voiced what they both thought Mycroft needed: siblings.  Sherrinford’s estrus was like clockwork: every four months, on the day, five days running.  And yet – nothing.

 

“The meds,” said Sherrinford.  “It was the meds.  Something about those meds….”

 

“Nonsense,” said Aurora briskly.  “All of the rabbits fell pregnant at some point within the following year.  Three-quarters of the patients who underwent the early trials have had perfectly normal pregnancies following termination of the medication. The meds are not to blame for your infertility now.”

 

The word stung.  “Then they were what caused my pregnancy the first time,” said Sherrinford bitterly.  “Maybe it’s my infertility that’s the norm, and the pregnancy was the aberration.”

 

“Mycroft is not an aberration…”

 

“I’m not saying _he_ is.”  Apart from the child’s amazingly high intellect and inability to connect to any other child, thought Sherrinford, but he already knew that argument was a lost cause.  “Just…I wish you’d let me go back on them.  Just once.  A little experiment.”

 

“No.”

 

“Aurora…”

 

“ _No_ ,” said Aurora more firmly. 

 

But they were happy, even so. 

 

And then came the trip abroad: Aurora, by herself, for seven months to Boston.  Mycroft had caught scarlet fever and Sherrinford refused to leave him behind, so Aurora went alone.  It was the first time they had spent the night apart since the day they bonded, and Sherrinford was not a bit surprised when one month in, he realized he’d become what he’d once claimed to be: geographically unbonded.

 

The quiet germ of an idea sparked in his mind, and he pondered it, then tucked it in to let it simmer a bit.  Maybe.  Maybe.

 

He did have an entire laboratory at his disposal, after all.  As well as all the notes from all the work they’d ever done.

 

And so when Aurora returned, he kissed her, and felt it start – the peculiar warmth in his abdomen, the rush of his blood, the itching tickle under his skin.  The way her eyes went a bit glassy, and all of his senses alive, and all his mental facilities brilliantly aware of everything.

 

“Come to bed,” he whispered into her hair, and she didn’t even protest.

 

Three days, that was all it took – exactly as before.  When the strange, shortened estrus was at last fading away, Aurora lay beside him, quiet, as their fingers twined together.

 

“Is it what you want?” she asked.

 

“Yes,” said Sherrinford, because it was.

 

Four weeks later, he knew.  He was pregnant.

 

*

 

“You’re going to have a little brother or sister,” he told Mycroft, who looked at him suspiciously. 

 

“He or she can’t play with my umbrella.”

 

“They’ll have their own.  But you must be kind and look after them; you’ll be the big brother, after all.  They’ll look up to you for advice.”

 

“I’m very good with advice.”

 

“You are,” Sherrinford reassured his son, and kissed the top of his auburn head.  The bright red locks had faded a bit as Mycroft grew, and he was stubborn and aloof in a way that Sherrinford recognized all too well. 

 

“It took quite a long time,” continued Mycroft.  “Were you waiting to see how I turned out?”

 

Sherrinford laughed.  “No, sometimes it just takes a bit longer.  But I think you’re turning out splendidly.”

 

“Maybe the new baby will be just like me.”

 

“I think he’ll be just like himself, really.  And that’s all right.”

 

“If you say so,” said Mycroft, somewhat dubiously. 

 

The baby kicked, and squirmed, and wriggled.  It never seemed to rest, and Sherrinford became used to its movements, the way his stomach would shift and change shape, often when other people talked to him, as if the baby protested the noise.  His first pregnancy with Mycroft had been an easy one – Sherrinford hadn’t even had a moment of morning sickness beyond the incident with the vinegar, but this baby was an entirely different story.  He woke every day nauseous; he had no interest in food apart from tea and toast.  There was nearly always a migraine threatening to take over his mind; he lost the ability to function in bright sunlight.

 

“I’m harboring a vampire,” he moaned to Aurora one cold November day, when it was brilliantly sunny outside in defiance of winter, and yet he was holed up in his cold little bedroom, with all the shades drawn.  “What were you _doing_ in Boston?”

 

“Drink this,” said Aurora, and handed him a glass.  Sherrinford hesitated.  “It’s water, don’t be silly.  Only another month, and then as soon as the baby appears, we’ll ground her for the terrible way she’s treated you.”

 

Sherrinford swallowed the water with a gulp.  “It might be a boy.”

 

“As different as this pregnancy is from the last?”

 

“Aurora Holmes, are you telling me you’re starting to listen to the old wives weave their tales?”

 

“Old wives have the advantage of being _old_ , and therefore have far more knowledge than either of us.”

 

“Says the scientist.”  He settled back on the bed and closed his eyes.  Aurora sat down next to him, stretching out, and began to run her fingers lightly over his hair.  It was pleasant, and he sighed, almost happy.

 

“I don’t mind either way, but saying ‘he or she’ all the time does get old,” Aurora admitted.

 

“We haven’t discussed names.”

 

“I thought Violet, if it’s a girl.”

 

“I like it.”

 

“And…William, if a boy?”

 

She sounded cautious.  Sherrinford opened one eye to look at her.  “Nice enough.  Doesn’t quite go with Mycroft, though.”

 

“As if I care for such details.”

 

“True.”  He closed his eyes again.  “Keep doing that, it’s lovely.”

 

“Of course,” whispered Aurora, and when Sherrinford fell asleep, she was still stroking his hair.

 

*

 

Christmas came and went…and no baby.

 

Boxing Day, thought Sherrinford, but no.  It passed quietly, with no sign of the baby’s arrival.

 

New Year’s Day ended with Mycroft setting off the fireworks in the yard with the gardener’s assistance.  It did not end with a new baby.

 

It took another three days before Sherrinford felt the first pangs of labor, shortly after tea.  He grinned at Aurora, and felt the sweat break out on his forehead. 

 

“That’s it, then,” he said to her, jokingly.  “So much for the quiet life.”

 

“Hush,” said Aurora, and helped him to the bedroom upstairs before calling for the doctor.  “I still think you should be in hospital.”

 

“Now who’s being tedious,” teased Sherrinford.  “Mycroft was the easiest birth in the world – and don’t argue, even the doctors admitted it – and he was born _here_.  There’s no reason to assume this baby won’t be as easy.”

 

“This pregnancy has been entirely different.”

 

“But I am not.  I’m just seven years older.  It’ll be fine.”

 

“You’re being unreasonable and _extremely_ unscientific,” said Aurora haughtily, and Sherrinford had the audacity to laugh.

 

“I’m being _reasonable_ , Aurora.  You know the hospital would never let you stay in the room for the birth, and I want you there for it.  But I promise – if the doctor says I should go to hospital, then to hospital I shall go.  Everything will be _fine_ , you’ll see.”

 

Aurora bit her lip and went to unlock the doors so that the doctor could come straight in, and then she went to put Mycroft to bed.

 

“It’s only six!” protested Mycroft. 

 

“No matter,” said Aurora briskly.  “To bed.  You have a towering pile of books received for Christmas, you can read every last one of them until you fall asleep.”

 

“What about supper?”

 

“You had a substantial tea of sausages and two slices of cake.”

 

“But I’ll be hungry in another two hours.”

 

“There are tea biscuits in your room and a faucet in your lavatory and if I hear one more word of protest I shall take the biscuits away.  Good night, Mycroft.”

 

Sulking, Mycroft went, but at least he _went_.  The front door clattered as it opened; the doctor had arrived.

 

“All is well?” he queried as he took off his coat and scarf.

 

“So far,” said Aurora cautiously.  “I…I don’t like it.  I should say that now.  I want him in hospital.”

 

“And if there is the slightest reason that he should be, we will transport him there immediately,” the doctor reassured her.  “But Mr Holmes is young yet – twenty-nine, is that right?”

 

“It might be gravido two, but it’s still only paro one, Doctor.”

 

“No matter.  His first went very smoothly.  He knows what to expect, the nurses are on their way.  Try not to fret, Dr Holmes.  He’ll be fine.”

 

Sherrinford was still smiling when they found him upstairs, panting through another contraction.  “Did she give you all the reasons why this is a bad idea, Doc?” he asked when they came in.

 

“Nearly,” said the doctor, setting his bag down on the dresser.

 

“Stop it,” said Sherrinford to Aurora.  “And take my hand.”

 

She did, and didn’t go.

 

For six hours, she didn’t let go.  She watched as Sherrinford panted and breathed, and smiled and dozed, and strained and winced, and tried to hide the tears that came to his eyes at the very worst moments.

 

She had to let go when they put in the IV, because he couldn’t drink anything, and was growing dehydrated.

 

She held on tight for another seven hours, when she had to leave him briefly to charge the nanny with taking Mycroft out of the house for the day.  “Anywhere.  The zoo.  London.  Paris.  I don’t care.  Keep him out, until it’s over.”

 

She held on again, another eight hours, tired and hungry herself but unwilling to leave him, while his breaths grew shallow and weak.

 

“The hospital,” she said, while she wiped the sweat from his brow.

 

“No,” said Sherrinford.

 

“The hospital,” she said to the nurses four hours later, while Sherrinford strained and panted behind them.

 

“Early days,” said the nurses.

 

“The hospital,” she said to the doctor, long after she’d lost track of the time, and he looked at her with sad eyes.

 

“We can’t risk moving him now,” he said gently, and Aurora wanted to scream.

 

Except it was Sherrinford screaming, and pushing, and folding himself over, and then he collapsed back on the bed, and the screams continued, but high-pitched, more of an indignant wail than anything else.

 

“It’s a boy!” said the doctor, holding the child up, and the nurses swooped in and took the baby away to the far side of the room, where the heat lamps and the cot had already been set up, ready to receive the new infant.

 

Aurora didn’t care.  She lay out on the bed next to Sherrinford, who was pale and damp with sweat, his hair matted to his scalp, no longer bright red but dark auburn. Like Mycroft’s.

 

“It’s a boy,” Aurora whispered to him, her voice dry and cracking. 

 

Sherrinford smiled faintly.  “You were wrong.”

 

“Had to happen once,” said Aurora, and she smoothed the hair on his head, nearly dripping with sweat. 

 

Sherrinford coughed weakly.  “Where is he?”

 

“They’re cleaning him up.  You’ll see him in a minute.”

 

“I…I need to see him now.”

 

Sherrinford began to struggle, trying to push himself up.  Aurora helped him turn enough to see into the corner with the baby and the nurses.

 

“So bright,” he murmured.  “Look at that, his whole head’s shining with light.”

 

“That’s just the heat lamps, love,” said Aurora, and she rolled Sherrinford back down to the mattress.  “Rest.  He’ll be here in a moment.”

 

Sherrinford pulled his eyes away and turned to look at Aurora.  “He’s all right?”

 

“Yes, of course.  He’s perfect.”

 

“And Mycroft?”

 

“Asleep, I should think – it’s nearly one in the morning.”

 

Sherrinford nodded.  “I’m glad he was late.  I had two extra weeks with you.”

 

Aurora’s mouth went dry.  “What…what do you mean?”

 

“I don’t regret a thing.  Every minute of the last eight years – it was worth it.  It was worth this.  It was everything.”

 

“Stop,” said Aurora, her voice already thick.  “It’s over, love.  The baby’s born, they’ll bring him over, you’ll get to hold him.  You’ll sleep for a bit and you’ll feel so much better in the morning.”

 

“I have never been so happy in my life or as in love with anyone as I was with you,” said Sherrinford, and closed his eyes.  “Even if I never heard you say it.”

 

There was a commotion somewhere in the room.  The doctor calling out, the nurses moving, a crash as machines were moved. The bed shifted as if several someones were joining them on it, somewhere below. 

 

Aurora didn’t care.  Now there was shouting, the monitors attached to Sherrinford started shrilling out, but Aurora didn’t care.

 

“Say what?” asked Aurora, and she took him by the shoulders. “Sherrinford…say…oh, God.  No.  Sherrinford Holmes, I—“

 

He convulsed, once – twice – and then went still, and even though the machines still screamed out, and the doctor and nurses were shouting to each other about blood and hemorrhages, and somewhere, the baby continued to cry its welcome to the world.  Aurora didn’t hear any of it.

 

Sherrinford’s eyes were closed, and he was gone.

 


	7. Epilogue

It was raining the day that Aurora and Mycroft visited the grave in the village’s small cemetery. Black stone, white letters spelling out a single name:

Sherrinford Hunter Holmes

Mycroft’s hand was small in Aurora’s. She could feel the coldness through her cotton gloves, felt the gentle weight of his hand, resting in hers, not even pulling it for relief. As if he were afraid that pulling on her might shatter them both.

“It’s a very nice headstone, don’t you agree, Mycroft?”

“Yes,” said the boy solemnly. He glanced up at her. “What do we do now?”

Aurora read the name over, three times in a row. She thought about the young man who first appeared in her laboratory so many years before, the books and papers falling from his arms, his hair askew, his eyes wide with curiosity. The same young man, sure of his own mind, leading her carefully through the treacherous waters of love and estrus. The same man, no longer quite so young, sweating and exhausted and dying, on a bed covered in blood.

No. She closed her eyes, and willed the memory away, put a thousand doors with heavy locks between it and her. She would remember him – every day of her life, she’d remember him – but not like that. Better to remember him the first day, rather than the last. Young and wide-eyed, disheveled and lovely, and one day to be hers.

“Mummy?”

Aurora opened her eyes, and smiled down at Mycroft. The smile wavered, sad instead of bright, and she felt as if she might burst into tears on the spot.

But she was Aurora Holmes, and she’d lost dreams before. She’d weather through. They’ll be all right.

“We go home,” she said to her son. “To Sherlock.”


End file.
